Scarred Fate
by Massanie
Summary: COMPLETE. Part 2 of The Bitter Glass Series: Erestor is intelligent, secretive and manipulating. But as his past catches up with him he needs to be all of that and more if he wants to save those he loves. Elrond/Glorfindel/Erestor preslash.
1. Leave Me A Lie

**Title:** Scarred Fate  
**Series:** The Bitter Glass  
**Sequel to:** The Bitter Glass  
**Characters:** Elrond/Glorfindel, Elrond/Celebrían, Erestor, Elladan, Elrohír, Arwen, Galadriel, Celeborn, Melpomaen, Lindir  
**Rating:** R, M  
**Warnings:** violence, AU, mentioned child abuse  
**Beta:** oli…x  
**Disclaimer:** Sadly, the only thing I own is the plot but none of the characters or places in it… they are all Tolkien's and of course I'm not earning any money with this.  
**Summary:** He is the youngest chief advisor in the history of Middle Earth; he is intelligent, calculating, secretive ... and highly manipulating.  
No one realises the extent of this ability until suddenly all around him disaster is coming thick and fast and a well-planned chaos breaks out.  
I might add that none of the original characters are evil as one might expect after reading the summary.

**Summary of the prequel (The Bitter Glass):** Erestor flees to Imladris with the help of some border guards from Greenwood to escape his abusive family. He is adopted by the Imladrian chief advisor Dírhael who dies during the attack on Celebrían that led to her departure into the west. Erestor is appointed chief advisor.  
After her rescue Celebrían releases Elrond from their vows so he could start a new life with Glorfindel, knowing that they were soul mates. Erestor isolates himself even more and only Lindir manages to befriend him.  
**initial situation:** Imladrian sentries report an increased Orc sighting in the Misty Mountains. As Elrond and his sons are about to cross the High Pass on their way back from a visit in Mirkwood, and are unaware of the danger, a large rescue-party is send out led by Glorfindel.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: Leave Me A Lie**

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**CHAPTER NOTES:**  
Reviews are much appreciated!

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Blinded by love  
Between lust and hate  
You scarred your fate  
There's no time to waste

Ride for your own ruin  
Odium became your opium  
(Epica, Trois Vierges)

* * *

"Lindir!"

The white haired ellon saw his friend Erestor hurrying towards him. The black-haired elf was clad in a dark grey riding cloak and a grey tunic and leggings. He was pale – but then he always was.  
Lindir knew that the chief councillor's horse was already in the courtyard waiting for him. The large contingent of soldiers made ready also; in less than half an hour the party would depart, riding out for the rescue of their lord and his son's. But still Lindir did not understand why Erestor would go.

"Why?" There were tears in the minstrel's eyes that he was refusing to spill. Erestor took his hands in his own and Lindir sighed at how chilled they felt. "You are cold to the bones, mellonen! Worse, you are cold to your very soul. You do not have the strength to do this. I know you always kept your secrets but this is folly. You are chief advisor: you have no business in this mission. You are no warrior Erestor, do you want to get yourself killed?" His voice sounded hurt.

"I will not argue, Lindir. He is our lord and I know I can help. You will understand when our contingent returns safely with Elrond. But know this – whatever will happen – know that I always treasured your friendship, your loyalty. I will never forget that."

The white haired elf stared in horror at the councillor; he shook his head in denial and suppressed a sob. "Don't …"

"Lindir, remember the letters in my desk, will you? Should something happen?" Erestor beseeched his friend.

"Don't do this. Don't let us part like this. Don't say goodbye like we'd never meet again." Finally Lindir let his tears fall and lowered his head.

Erestor sighed and embraced the other. "My friend, there will always be a next meeting for us, that I promise you; and you know I always hold on to my promises."

"I mean meeting in this world, Erestor, on this side of the sea!"

The dark haired ellon raised his eyebrows and tried to smile "Oh, well. I can only repeat my last promise. But you will remember the letters?"

Lindir nodded.

"Then all will be well. I have to take my leave now. Farewell, my friend. May the Valar bless you."  
Erestor did not wait for an answer, swiftly stepping out of the embrace and turning to go. He was shivering, Lindir could see that. The symptoms of the elven sickness were more evident than they had ever been. He knew Erestor would not return. Somehow he just knew it.

"May they guard you, my friend."

Guard. Maybe Glorfindel could guard him as well. He straightened his spine and willed his breath to even. Then he hurried to Erestor's office.

Only minutes later Lindir came to a halt in front of the large wooden doors to Erestor's refuge. He knew that the door would be unlocked, Melpomaen and the other advisors would have to have access, but still he hesitated. If he went through with his plans he would betray Erestor's trust and if his friend found out … he could only hope for his forgiveness and understanding.

Slowly Lindir turned the doorknob and opened the door to Erestor's territory. The rising sun shone through the large windows directed towards the courtyard where the party under Glorfindel's command made ready to leave.

Lindir tiptoed towards his friend's large desk even though he knew that nobody was near. Everyone was out in the courtyard seeing the warriors off. But he felt like a trespasser (which of course he was) or like a child again, about to sneak into the kitchens to steal some sweets. He smiled at his own silliness. There was no need to be quiet but still he had to be careful to keep away from the large windows. It would do no good to have anyone in the courtyard seeing him lurking in the chief advisor's office.

Slowly he rounded the desk. Stacks of papers were draped over its surface each neatly provided with a sign addressing its content and the name of the advisor who had to attend to it, written in the elegant handwriting of the chief advisor. Erestor had always been adamant about his system of organizing the paper work. While he was aware that his quick mind and organizational skills kept Imladris running as smoothly as it did and his prowess in the council chambers were procuring the Last Homely House with a non-deniable vantage in every negotiation his conception of order ensured that Imladris would never sink into chaos if he was ever to be unable to fulfil his duties – like now. Melpomaen would take over for Erestor for the first time (as Erestor had never appointed an official second) and Lindir hoped with every fibre of his tense body that it would not be a permanent situation. With his heart hammering wild in his chest he remembered the first time that Erestor had to step in for his mentor Dírhael – who had never returned from his trip to Lóriën.

Finally the white haired minstrel sat back on his heels behind the massive desk and pulled a silver key out of his pockets.  
Erestor had given it to him. It was not a memory that he was fond of, it never failed to fill him with an anxiety he could not quite place.

**FLASHBACK**

Every year at Dírhael's death-day Erestor took some days off. He would lock himself into his rooms and not answer knocks nor come out for meals. No one really knew what the chief advisor did while he hid in his chambers but every year when he would finally join the household once more he would be pale and weakened.

This year, Elrond had had enough and when Erestor came to him once again to inform him that he would take some days off, Elrond tried to break his advisor's routine, telling him to stop it, to go on instead of withering away in grief. The elven lord had implored Erestor to accept help but the younger ellon had only told him not to meddle into things that were none of his business, that he had the right to take his time off and whatever he did in his free time was his decision alone. The argument had gone awfully wrong when Erestor had left his lord's office in an angry rush and Elrond had come after him, opened the door and all but shouted at him from the doorframe  
"You are fading, Erestor!"

The words had echoed through Imladris' corridors and all talking between the servants and advisors that occupied them stopped immediately. Shocked faces turned towards Elrond and Erestor whose spine had straightened impossibly so. With all the dignity he could muster he had turned towards Imladris' lord and slowly bowed, deliberately ignoring the other witnesses to this revelation.

"In all those years as your chief advisor I have never failed you, my lord, and I never will. And with all due respect, my lord Elrond, if I am fading, than it is my decision alone to make, not yours; I would very much appreciate it if you would be so kind as to not interfere in *my* personal affairs. As long as my health has no impact on my work than it is none of your concern. Good day my lord."

With that he bowed again and proudly passed the shocked elves that had assembled in the corridor.

Erestor would go to his chambers and not emerge from them for the next five days. Lindir went to his rooms every single day, knocking and pleading with the elf within to open like the minstrel had done the last few years and would do the next few decades as well. When Lindir came again to his friend's door the sixth day in a row to pound onto them he was surprised to find them suddenly opened. There in front of him stood Erestor, pale and drained, a dark robe hanging from his slim shoulders.

"You are stubborn."But a small mirthless smile played around the chief advisor's lips as he whispered the words and stepped aside to bid his friend entry.

"As are you."  
Lindir's voice almost shivered with anger and frustration but he entered the chief advisor's private rooms. They were dark for all the windows were concealed by heavy burgundy curtains but he had seen on other occasions how the sun would bath the wooden walls and the beautifully crafted furnishings in warm golden light, giving the room a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Lindir knew those rooms; he had often been here over the last few years, forcing himself into Erestor's life and keeping the lone elf company. So it was with not much difficulty that he found his way to the living room suite before the cold fireplace. He settled down with a familiarity that made Erestor smile a little bit.

The white haired ellon tapped with his nails on the dark wooden armrest, his whole bearing reflecting the emotional turmoil he was in: anger and frustration about his friend's stubbornness showed in his posture, an ill-humoured impatience could clearly be seen in his fair face and his blue eyes were full of concern.

Erestor sighed, closed the door and walked to one of the stuffed armchairs, sitting down gracefully himself.

Erestor and Lindir were opposites in so many ways that everyone wondered over their curious friendship: While Erestor was reclusive and solemn, dedicating himself to his work and seemingly having no hobbies at all, Lindir was outgoing and serene, he liked being in crowds, being seen and being heard. Erestor was like the night, with his black hair and eyes, with his cold attire and his paleness; Lindir was light: his white hair flowing freely behind him and his fair skin shining; his blue eyes were open and revealed what Erestor's had learned to hide.

Several minutes they sat there in silence, Erestor content to feel the other's presence and Lindir waiting for his friend to finally speak some words of placation but the black haired ellon stayed quiet.

"You are much paler than the last time, mellon. If you keep on doing this insane self-punishment I fear it will be your death one day. Why do you torment yourself so?"

Lindir had learned long ago that Erestor hated irrelevant chattering and he felt secure enough in their friendship to be honest like this.

"I have to do this."

Silence again. Lindir knew the black haired would not say another word as to why he felt the need to torment himself. So he tried a different approach.

"Elrond knows that you are fading."

"And everyone else, too, I reckon."

"Yes." Lindir's voice was merely a whisper. Erestor wasn't even sure he had heard. His elven senses had dulled due to his delicate health. Most of the times he managed to cover those facts but now it would be more difficult.  
Nonetheless he registered the helplessness in his friend's voice and the slumped shoulders.

Erestor stood up and slowly took his friend's hands in his, pulling the other to his feet as well. "I have been fading before, Lindir; for a long time. I am stronger than you think me to be and I will not succumb to it now while I am needed here." He embraced his friend, resting his head on the other's shoulder. Lindir could feel Erestor's breath against his neck and it reassured him. His friend was living, and he just had to hope that he could … would overcome his grief; he'd make sure of that.

"But there is something I would ask of you."

Lindir did not hesitate as he heard the plea whispered against his ear.  
"Anything …"

Erestor pulled back to meet Lindir's eyes and again he took the minstrel's hands, laying something cold in the open palm and closing the fingers around it. Lindir frowned; he felt the key pressed into his palm and confused he met Erestor's eyes.

"This key opens a box that I will put in the bottom drawer of the desk in my office. There are letters in there. If something happens to me …"

"No!" The minstrel tried to stop his friend from continuing. He did not want to hear this further. He had become pale – nearly as pale as his hair, making him appear like a ghost.

"… Listen Lindir … it's important for me. If something happens to me, open it; take the letters and give them to the addressees. Promise me!"

It was not the voice of his friend that Lindir heard; it was the commanding tone of the chief advisor, whose orders were to be abided at any rate. Erestor had not used that tone on him since their friendship had started and it took him aback. He could only nod his agreement.

Erestor sighed relieved and once more took his friend into his arms. "Le hannon, mellonen. If I die one day … or … or if I disappear … without a trace or word, then deliver the letters immediately, they contain all the answers you need. Just do not open them before that day."

But Lindir felt afraid, shocked. Erestor was not totally honest. Elves had no need for a testament, except when they feared for their lives. Whatever the dark ellon withheld from him scared him and induced in him a sense of foreboding and dread.

"Do not give up and fade away from me!"

"I promise I will not succumb to the elven sickness."

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Lindir looked at the offending silver key. Quickly making up his mind he opened the bottom drawer and unveiled a small box of dark cherry wood. It was plain except for an elegantly formed silver lock at its front. He made haste and opened it with a soft clicking sound. Swiftly he took the seven letters and returned everything to its initial state and left his friend's office.

Looking through Erestor's letters Lindir could not stop himself from frowning: there was one for captain Thalion, a Silvan Elf who had accompanied Erestor from Mirkwood when Erestor had first set foot on Imladris four centuries ago, furthermore there were letters for Melpomaen, Lindir himself, Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohír and Galadriel. Why ever would Erestor leave something like a last will for the twins and the lady of the Golden Wood? He pocketed the four letters for Thalion, Galadriel, Melpomaen and the one that bore his own name, and rushed off to search Imladris' captain.

Just as he was slowly becoming desperate in his search for the golden elf lord he found him standing at the entry of the main house giving last instructions to his second in command, Telchar. Glorfindel wore dark green leggings and tunic, neatly tucked into soft leather boots. His expression was grim, after all it was his lover and his family that were unknowingly endangering themselves by attempting to cross the High Pass that very moment. For a second, Lindir reconsidered at seeing the lord's expression, but then he rushed forward.

"lord Glorfindel."

The blond ellon turned his eyes towards him, his features softening. Lindir was a kind-hearted elf and furthermore the best friend of his secret protégé Erestor.

"Lindir, what is it? But please hurry, we have to leave in a few minutes."

Lindir took his elbow and steered him away from curious eyes and ears. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow. He tried to be patient with the sensible musician, but they had so little time …

"I will not take much of your time; I know that it is vital for our lord and his family that you make haste. It's about Erestor."

"So you know why he insisted on accompanying us?" The captain was indeed curious why the chief advisor had been adamant about him being a part of the contingent.

"No, but I worry for him. You know that he is fading. It has become worse after lord Dírhael's death day last week. I think he is sure that he will not return alive from this mission. He knows something about his future, maybe the lady Galadriel told him something … I don't know."

Lindir was desperately trying to hold eye contact with Glorfindel, to make him believe his words that stumbled from his lips in a rush as if he was afraid that the captain and seneschal would not hear him out.

"Years ago he gave me letters for you, our lord and his sons, his assistant, the lady Galadriel, captain Thalion and me; and he said if he disappeared without a trace or if he died, I was to deliver them to their recipients. Now I give them to you. I think he will disappear, Glorfindel. And if this happens, then open the letters. He told me they contained answers. Please keep him safe!"

He pressed the four letters against Glorfindel's chest who took them with knitted eyebrows. Glorfindel stared questioningly at the white haired ellon who was now crying softly. Again he looked at the letters in his hands.

"He reminded me of them just half an hour ago and he told me farewell, that he treasured my friendship above all. He … he will not return!"

He was sure that Lindir's imagination had gotten the better of him but it was true: the chief counsellor was fading and he would not take that lightly. The fact that Erestor had even written farewell letters greatly disturbed him. "Hush, I'm not going to let that happen. I will bring him back to you, okay? I will make sure he is fine, do not worry."

"Now, young one: pull yourself together and keep up hope. We will return with Elrond and Erestor just within ten days at the most, okay? I have to go now." He gave the minstrel one more encouraging smile that he found hard to fake, than he rejoined Telchar who accompanied him into the courtyard.

He saw Erestor already on his dun, it's hide shimmering like gold. The chief advisor sat on his fabulous horse like a proud statue, his black hair flowing freely to the small of his back. He was pale but his face betrayed nothing of his body's weakness, only showing a cool determination.  
His blue-black common raven sat on his leather clad fist. The bird was his constant companion and it therefore surprised no one that the counsellor would take it along.  
Glorfindel sighed. He knew about the scars that marred the dark ellon's soul, that made him cold and distant but still he wished Erestor had allowed Elrond and him to comfort him in those long past years. But Erestor had brusquely turned them away, telling them to back off; and they had complied, once again fading into the background of Erestor's life.

Giving Lindir a last reassuring nod he mounted and the party rode out for Imladris, for Elrond and his heirs.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

mellon ~ friend  
mellonen ~ my friend  
le hannon ~ thank you


	2. Presentiment

**CHAPTER 2: Presentiment**

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**CHAPTER NOTES**  
I added a summary for the previous story at the beginning of the first chapter. If anyone doesn't want to read The Bitter Glass (it is rather depressing), you can read that instead.

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

During the first hours of their journey Glorfindel had told several of his guards one by one to keep an eye on the chief advisor and to inform him immediately if something struck them as odd. Among them were the guards who had observed Erestor when he had joined lord Elrond's household so many years ago: Arveldir and Tauron.  
They rode at an easy trot – as fast as they could without exhausting the elven horses in this mountainous area. So far they had made good time and Glorfindel hoped they would accomplish some miles more this day.

He was anxious to find Elrond of course. His lover was in great peril and not even knowing about it. He only hoped that they would reach his beloved in time. Glorfindel swallowed hard and urged his horse on.

Only shortly afterwards a guard rode up next to his captain, just slowly catching up so as not to draw too much attention on himself.  
It was Arveldir.

"My lord Glorfindel."

"What is it? Does he need rest?"

"No my lord, I don't know why … I had expected him to be easily exhausted in his current condition. But he seems fine. No, I came to tell you that he let his raven fly moments ago."

Glorfindel wondered why the soldier mentioned it. The raven was probably hunting. The councillor would more than likely spare the food for the higher mountain areas where his bird could not find any prey. After all they would only reach the mountains the following day.

"The bird carried a small leather bag. Lord Erestor said he was to search lord Elrond and the bag contained some ink, a quill and a piece of parchment so our lord could send us a message about where and in what condition he and his party are."

Glorfindel clicked his tongue in irritation "He should have told me!"

Arveldir nodded seriously. "And there is something more: I think he is drinking."

"Drinking? You mean …"

"It did smell like alcohol but not like wine or something. More like … a highly concentrated liquid with herbs. I rode next to him nearly the entire journey and every half an hour or so he would take out a little flask from his pockets and sip once, this peculiar smell invading my nose. I hoped to find out what it was so I asked him if I could have a swig but he only shook his head. Well I had actually expected that but I had hoped for some information or reaction.  
When I joked about him not wanting to share his private wine stock he just glared at me. Maybe lord Elrond merely gave him something for his illness, but somehow I doubt it."

Glorfindel nodded thoughtfully. He was not really concerned about the raven. It was a logical decision, one he would have approved of in an instant and Erestor was not known to ask for permission first when he was convinced of the advantages of his actions – something that caused Elrond headaches quite frequently. But he was curious about that draught.  
"It could be anything, he is quite versed in phytology. Maybe it is just something to keep up his strength. He would have known that this trip would not be easy for him.  
Maybe I'll get to speak with him once we make camp. Thank you for now and keep up your attention."

* * *

But that opportunity somehow did not come: once they had settled down, the fires built, supper eaten and guards for the night appointed Erestor had immediately unrolled his bedroll at the side of the camp and laid himself down to rest.  
Glorfindel searched out the guards he had appointed to observe the counsellor to inquire about Erestor. When they could not provide him with any new information Glorfindel went to rest, not far away from where Erestor laid. But sleep evaded him because of his worry for his beloved and he found himself listening to the night's voices instead. He heard the guards patrolling just outside the camp, heard his soldiers shifting on their bedrolls and Erestor's frantic breathing.

Frowning, Glorfindel turned his head slowly. The advisor lay still, his eyes closed (which in itself was already unusual and disturbing) and his breath came irregular with shallow intakes. Then he gasped and turned his head towards the captain, obviously still caught in some kind of nightmare, silent tears escaping his closed eyes.

He was about to stand and go over to the distressed elf, but one of the guards had already noticed the chief counsellor's movements and swiftly but silently stepped closer.

"Lord Counsellor." He murmured, trying to wake the black haired ellon. "Lord Erestor!" But even when he began to shake the counsellor's shoulders the soldier did not get any reaction at all.

Glorfindel joined his guard and frowned at Erestor's sweaty face. His lips were clenched shut to a narrow line and his eyes moved behind the closed lids. He laid his hand on the pale forehead but he could not detect any traces of fever. Though when he felt for the counsellor's pulse he found it racing.

"Why does he not wake, my lord?"

"I don't know." Glorfindel bit his lips. He did not know what to do, he was no healer. Once again he shook the elf and when this got him no reaction he slapped him, albeit gently.  
Slowly the dark eyes opened and even more slowly they focused on him.

"Glorfindel?" The captain had to strain his ears to hear the whispered words. "we have to lure them away, they are too many to be overpowered!"

Erestor quickly shut his eyes again, shaking his head as if to clear it and sat up. 'He isn't pale, he's white', Glorfindel thought and in an instant he laid his hands on the advisor's shoulders and pushed him back down.

"Maybe you should lay down again, you …"

"No, I'm sorry, I am fine, I truly am. I just had a rather violent nightmare."  
The counsellor pushed against the hands holding him and sat up, schooling his features behind a mask. He registered the curious faces of the guards around him that he had woken and he sighed. The last thing he had wanted was to draw attention like that.  
"I am sorry if I have disturbed your rest, my lord seneschal. It shall not happen again. It was just a dream."

Rather reluctantly, Glorfindel nodded to the guard who silently left. The blond could still see that Erestor was somewhat confused; his eyes seemed to be constantly moving, not really seeing his surroundings.

"May I inquire about your nightmare?"

Erestor regarded the captain with his large dark eyes. When Glorfindel thought he would not get an answer and started to turn around he heard Erestor's emotionless whisper.

"I dreamt we came upon Elrond and his party. They had saved themselves into a cave high above in the rocky side of one of the walls framing the high pass just before it trails down towards Mirkwood. They were surrounded by enemies and they were too many for us to take on."

Glorfindel observed the quiet chief counsellor. He looked extremely young and vulnerable sitting there on the ground, with his silver-black eyes staring into the forest around them. Suddenly he seemed to be the dark youngster again that Glorfindel had found breaking into Elrond's labour, unsure and scared. He could hide behind that notorious stony mask of his, but Glorfindel knew it was only that: a mask.  
Feeling the need to reassure the ellon who was little more than a youngster to him, he reached out and placed a hand on a slim shoulder.

"That will not happen. I promised to protect Elrond and Imladris and I intend to keep that promise. More than one hundred elves are surely able to hold themselves against a pack of marauding Orcs."

"Yes they are." But the counsellor's face was still serious and something in his voice made the captain frown again. But now was not the time to make the futile attempt to worm Erestor's secrets out of him.

"Try to sleep some more, lord counsellor."

Erestor did as he was bidden and laid down again and soon his eyes glazed over with reverie once more. Glorfindel watched his charge closely. Something was wrong with the Elf. His breath had contained a bitter-sweet smell and he was reminded of Erestor's odd behaviour during the day and the flask the soldier had spoken about.

Soon Glorfindel witnessed once more how Erestor's sleep became restless, his breath hitched and his eyes moved behind the closed eyelids.  
Slowly he crept closer to the dark haired ellon he had protected for so long and smoothed the black tresses soft as silk. How he wished he knew what plagued him.  
Tomorrow he would speak to Erestor. They were on a dangerous mission after all and could not afford any weakness or diversion. Maybe he should send him back, maybe he should not have taken him along to begin with. But Erestor had been adamant and somehow he knew that the stubborn ellon would have followed them nonetheless. Better to have him close and be able to keep an eye on him.  
Glorfindel raised an eyebrow; maybe he should send some of his guards with the young chief advisor and tell them to get him to Imladris – bound and gagged if necessary – and to keep him there.

For now he would stay close throughout the night.

* * *

When dawn came the guards that were taking watch began to wake their comrades. They kept away from the advisor though, seeing that their captain was near and would more than likely wake the dark haired ellon in time. Most had heard by now that Erestor's sleep had not been very restful so they took pity on the fading elf.

Glorfindel waited some time more but when finally the soldiers started to breakfast which consisted of bread, dried fruits and a small amount of beef jerky, he began to wake the counsellor.  
Erestor was even paler than the day before, his now dull eyes staring into nothingness in his reverie. At least his eyes were not closed. The blond took the slim shoulders, gently giving them a shake and then another until the dark grey orbs slowly focused on him.

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. The advisor's pupils were dilated but before he could observe him more closely the black haired ellon turned away and stood unsteadily. Moments later the captain of Imladris had rushed to his feet, grabbed Erestor's upper arm in a strong and slightly bruising grip and pulled him up with him. Before the advisor could react, Glorfindel was steering him away from the curious eyes of his soldiers.  
"Lord Glorfindel, what are you doing? Let go!" the stumbling advisor all but growled.

"I could ask you the same. What did you take?" Glorfindel's voice was unforgiving. How dare Erestor endanger their mission and with it the lives of his men, Elrond and the twins? He had always had a soft spot for the darkling but now he had gone too far.

"I don't know what you are talking about, lord seneschal. Now kindly unhand me!"

"But you do." The captain sounded threatening and Erestor involuntarily held his breath.  
"What drug did you take? What are you playing at, endangering us all like this?"

When the black haired did not answer, Glorfindel growled "When we decamp, you will leave for Imladris. I will send a guard with you, and you will wait there for our return."

"That would be unwise." Erestor looked up, his eyes taking on a dangerous glint. "My raven will only follow me, and whatever message our lord sends us will come too late if she has to fly first to Imladris and then back to you. You have no choice but to let me travel along."

Then Erestor's hard expression softened, his eyes showing something like ... defeat?  
"What I have taken is a draught that can save the lives of elves that are doomed to die. So let me do what I need to do."

Glorfindel knitted his eyebrows angrily. He hated how Erestor managed to turn the tables. Of course he was right; maybe Elrond's survival depended on the intelligent black common raven that Erestor called his friend. 'She is more intelligent than most of your soldiers, my lord. At least *she* can solve problems on her own and use her creativity to do so' he had once replied to a teasing remark from Glorfindel about his seemingly only friend besides Lindir.  
And now once again he used his sickness to elegantly change the subject – even without directly naming it.

"Did Elrond give it to you? To counter the …"

"That is a private matter my lord, one I do not feel inclined to talk with you about" the advisor countered and turned towards the camp. "We should be on our way instead of quarrelling."

Glorfindel gripped Erestor's shoulder and forced the dark Elf to face him again. "Very well. But know this, lord counsellor: if you endanger Elrond or my men, I will have your hide!"

Erestor looked him directly in the blue eyes and replied with such forcefulness that Glorfindel was taken aback "Never will I bring harm upon you, lord Elrond or his family wilfully and if I can do anything to ensure your safe return, I will do so!"  
Erestor took some calming breaths while Glorfindel stared into his eyes that were not dark grey anymore but burned with a cold ice blue flame. Exactly seven intakes of breath later the counsellor's eye colour had returned to the colour of tarnished silver, nearly black at some spots. He cocked his head and raised his chin.  
"Be assured that I will not endanger those under your protection any further. Now lord Glorfindel, we should not dally anymore."

And while Glorfindel stood still in shock about Erestor's eyes and ominous words, the advisor returned to the campsite to eat something before they continued their journey.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

Phytology: study of plants, botany

ellon ~ male elf


	3. Suspicion

**CHAPTER 3: Suspicion**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Erestor's odd behaviour had gone on during that last day and night: hour for hour he had drunken from his small flask and when the evening finally came he had shut himself off from the others, shivering from the cold that he should not have felt to begin with. Brusquely he had turned down every concerned offer of help that he got from Glorfindel or his soldiers although his nightmares seemed even worse than the night before.

And there were other signs that clearly showed his quickly worsening health. He was pale and often closed his eyes for minutes, letting his horse find its own way. Glorfindel had him now quite openly observed to ensure that the advisor knew for certain that he was being mistrusted and therefore watched closely. Maybe the seneschal had hoped for a reaction from the now nearly apathetic counsellor but Erestor ignored them.

Then in the early morning hours, two days after they had started out from Imladris at the foot of the Misty Mountains, Erestor's large common raven was spotted on the horizon flying towards them.  
The black haired counsellor's diminished elven sight did not allow him to see his dark bird as early as the other Elves around him and he stayed quiet, only extending his gloved hand for the raven to land on it when he finally saw him approaching very fast down the mountainside towards them in a dive.

Immediately the party stopped, the guards curiously waiting for some news of their lord and his sons and guards. Erestor gently stroked the black feathers and took away the little leather back that the bird had carried, cooing softly to it. While the loving gestures would normally have earned him odd looks and taunting remarks, the guards around him were too impatient to give them now.  
Glorfindel had turned his horse where he had ridden at the head of the party and nearly galloped to where his guards were crowding around the chief counsellor. Immediately they let him through to Erestor, who was scanning a small piece of paper, the large black bird sitting on his shoulder.

"Erestor?"

The dark ellon looked up and with an indifferent expression gave the parchment to Glorfindel.

-l-_  
We were ambushed near the top of the High pass by Orcs. Elladan, Elrohír, some guards and I were able to save ourselves into a cave nearby on the mountainside of the pass, but we lost many.  
We have enough arrows to keep them at bay for some days for they can reach the cave's entrance only by climbing. But they intend to starve us out and Elrohír has a poisoned arm wound._

Be fast, I fear for him  
Elrond  
-l-

Glorfindel swallowed and for a few moments the fear for the peredhil family, *his* family, petrified him and made his mind spin.  
Then suddenly Erestor's words broke through to the surface of the raging sea of his thoughts:

'I dreamt we came upon Elrond and his party. They had saved themselves into a cave high above in the rocky side of one of the walls framing the High Pass just before it trails down towards Mirkwood. They were surrounded by enemies and they were too many for us to take on.'

Was the advisor involved in a conspiracy against Imladris? How could he have known? What if it was a lie?  
Glorfindel looked at the dark counsellor's indifferent stone mask. Had he betrayed them? But why telling him about that dream? Maybe Elrond was not in danger, but Imladris was … they had left it without many defences to come to Elrond's rescue. And they had done it because Erestor had brought him a message from the sentries on the High Pass, claiming that a large group of Orcs had made their bolt hole near the High Pass to waylay passengers.  
Both messages could be a lie. But if not, Elrond, Elladan and Elrohír would die along with some of his most trusted and best soldiers. They had to proceed and quickly.

But Glorfindel did not dare to take Erestor further along. He would send the advisor back to Imladris with a guard. Something was wrong with the quiet darkling – besides the drug he took; but he did not know what. Elrond and he would worry about that when they returned ... and if they returned.  
"Erestor, you will return to Imladris immediately. I will not endanger lord Elrond's chief advisor like that. Two of my guards will accompany you to ensure your safe return." And moreover that you don't stray from the path. "Arveldir, Tauron. Lead him back to Imladris on safe paths."

"That is a mistake, my lord." Erestor tried, but Glorfindel would not listen.

"You will return now!"

"Please." Erestor seldom begged, he had no need to. Normally he gave orders or his counsel, but now he sincerely begged, his eyes pleading with the balrog slayer to not send him away.

"They have been waylaid, Erestor and are besieged in a cave by I don't know how many Orcs. This is no place for an advisor! You will go. "

"You taught me how to fight yourself lord Glorfindel ..." he urged his mount to get closer to the blond seneschal and directly looked up into the handsome face.  
"Elrond took me in when he could have sent me back to certain death. I owe him. Please, my lord, let me accompany you. I am a versed healer and I have antidotes with me against the more common poisons used by Orcs."

The Imladris' guards followed the conversation with open curiosity. It was the first time that anyone heard about the advisor's reasons to accompany the rescue party for their lord. Maybe most did not believe them to be true, but they knew better than to cross their captain where Erestor was concerned.

"Then give them to me."

"You won't know what to do with them."

"But Elrond would."

"If he is not wounded himself."

"Erestor" Glorfindel growled "I said no."

The advisor looked aside, grinding his teeth. "As you wish, lord seneschal."  
With this he dismounted and pulled a small box out of his saddle pack. Carefully he gave it to Glorfindel.

"You will probably need the ones in the green bottles. The sentries reported that the Orcs came from the northern regions of the Hithaeglir. Elrond and I noticed that those packs use the same poison the Hillmen of Angmar sometimes smear on their weapons. It is not very fast, but untreated it will cause death within some days in Elrohír's case. Much faster if the poisoned wound is on the torso.  
Elrond will have tied off Elrohír's arm to slow it down, you will have enough time, if you hurry.  
The antidote is strong so one who does not know how to dose it risks adding another and more deadly poison to the system of the patient. A normal arrow wound, when the poison was freshly and generously applied would need about four small drops of the counter-poison, three when you are not sure. Never use more at once! In this case it is better to let the body deal with a little bit more of the original poison than too much of its counterpart. "  
Erestor paused for a moment, searching Glorfindel's eyes.  
"There is a list in there that contains to which poison the antidotes react and in what proportion. It might be useful for lord Elrond, although I think he has memorized most of them."

An uncomfortable silence settled between the warriors and the one scholar as Erestor turned to his horse to mount it once again.

"Erestor, get home safely. Arveldir, don't let him out of your sight until you reach Imladris. If something happens to Elrond's chief advisor, it will be on your head."  
Arveldir had worked long enough with Glorfindel to know the instructions for what they were: a warning to mistrust the darkling and to expect something like a flight. As did most of the other warriors nearby and they wondered what they missed.

Then the seneschal raised his hand, giving the signal to set out again. Three riders stayed behind: the dark haired Tauron, the more seasoned soldier Arveldir and the chief advisor of Imladris.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhil ~ half elves


	4. Curses

**CHAPTER 4: Curses**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Tauron climbed up the steep walls of the valley that led to the High Pass, following Erestor's tracks, the small signs left by the nails he had somehow attached to his shoes. It felt like an eternity of climbing.

Glorfindel had been right: only two hours after they had left Glorfindel's party Erestor had asked them for a short break – pointing out that they didn't need to rely on speed now. They had granted him that wish, knowing that he must be exhausted as he had not made a single journey outside Imladris' borders since coming to the Hidden Valley four centuries ago and the elven sickness weighted heavy on him.  
He had taken out a flask of wine from his package and taken some sips before offering it to his guards.

How could they have known that he had added a sleeping draught and swallowed a stimulant beforehand, equalising the effects?

When they had finally woken they had followed the advisor's tracks. But Erestor had soon left the path and started to climb down and east into the valley below.  
Arveldir – being of higher rank – ordered the younger Tauron to follow the advisor while he took the horses and proceeded on the High Pass.

Tauron's mood could be described as deathly at best. He had made good way but the advisor had still some hours head start. Maybe that was not the worst thing to happen: if he had caught Erestor now, he might have strangled him.

Thoughts like that occupied his mind while his cold hands closed around a rock and he pulled himself upwards. He breathed heavily while he cursed time and again; over the damned darkness that made his way even more difficult, over Erestor who had brought him into this position, over Arveldir for ordering him to follow the advisor, over Glorfindel, for making them play nanny for that brat, Elrond for getting into problems which had started their journey in the first place...  
To cut a long story short, the young guard cursed everyone he knew for his current situation and guessed that those he didn't know either were to blame for his misery, too, or were likely to have committed other despicable deeds for which they deserved his scorn.

He had needed to leave his armour behind when he climbed down. Now he felt cold and uncomfortably naked. For which – of course – he blamed Erestor. And Arveldir. In equal shares.

It had started snowing once again and he could only hope that he would be able to keep following Erestor's fading traces. But when he heaved his body over the cliff and onto the path he found his worries to be unfounded. There were the chief advisor's footprints, clearly visible through a thin layer of snow covering them.

Carefully Tauron examined the traces Erestor had left. The dark haired ellon had rested for a while it seemed. He had sat down in the snow and put off the strange device with which the advisor had eased his climbing.

'He must be exhausted.' Tauron thought. His health situation had been worsening since they had left Imladris. Now the advisor had to have gone to his limits, fleeing from them like that. And only two or three hours separated him from his charge now.  
He would probably reach the advisor within the day. But he had lost orientation during his climb. He did not know where exactly he was and how far away the top of the High Pass was. That disturbed him greatly: what if Erestor reached the top and with it the Orcs before he had caught him up?

Determined Tauron got to his feet and went on to follow the advisor's tracks. At least he did not have to climb further and the snow was no great hindrance. But Erestor proved to be harder to catch than the young guard had deemed possible. He was able to nearly keep his head-start, only gradually did Tauron manage to reduce the distance between them.

* * *

One and a half days separated the party from the High Pass' top, only one and a half days to reach the peredhil.

It had started to snow a while ago, a thick layer covering the path before them. It wouldn't have been a problem for the Elves, had they been on foot. But it hindered the horses and for that, Glorfindel cursed it.  
Still they had made good way since leaving the advisor behind the morning before. But they could have been faster had they not been so many soldiers although he was glad to have taken them along: the Orcs would probably have superior numbers even with the many soldiers that had joined Glorfindel's party.  
The captain planned on arriving at the top of the High Pass around midday the following day. The Orcs would be weakest then. He could only hope that Elrond and his sons would hold out that long.

"Captain!" A soldier called from the front. He had scouted ahead and Glorfindel could only see his frame standing out against the horizon and the white snowflakes that whirled around with the wind.

"There are tracks in the snow. Tracks of Elves."

"Steady on!" Glorfindel called to the party and his soldiers halted immediately. Slowly he proceeded towards the scout and dismounted.  
Yes, there were tracks in the snow, of two elves no less. Glorfindel frowned, carefully examining the footprints.

"Two Elves climbed up from the valley onto the pass in an interval of maybe two hours. The second one maybe five or six hours ago. Definitely Elves and on the way to the top of the High Pass. The imprints are not deep enough for humans." The soldier remarked.

"The first one used something to improve his foothold. Do you see the deep imprints here?"  
There were indeed five small deep imprints on the ball of the footprint, forming a trapeze, with one imprint in the middle, and a similar formation at the boot's heel. Small but deep were they, like "nails!"

"Yes, to ease the climb on the iced stones. He took them off, see the movement here? And then he rested for a while."

"They would have been a hindrance for an Elf in the snow; must have stiffen the sole far too much to walk comfortably with the pace he set." Glorfindel murmured as he walked further along the path, examining the tracks that led eastwards.

"He must have been in a hurry but calm; not like someone who is followed." In between the footprints there was a rather long distance but the ball had not twisted inwards. This one had been jogging through the snow in a concentrated and calm manner. A well trained elf.

The scout raised one well formed eyebrow. "He must have been quite small. The footprints are … well … rather small."

The seneschal nodded.

"What worries me is that they took the way through the valley and then the hard and rather difficult climb onto the path. They have avoided us.  
It seems that the second one followed the first. He kneeled down to examine the tracks ..."

Suddenly an idea crossed Glorfindel's mind; an unwelcome, unpleasant idea. And one that he somehow knew to be true – unfortunately. "Oh please don't let it be that stubborn Mirkwood plague. He is a brilliant climber. Never used ropes or anything when he climbed the rocks in the Hidden Valley."

The soldier looked up to his captain. A curious but serious look on his face. "Why do you expect him to do so?"

"I don't know, but I do." Glorfindel stood and went to his horse. "We should be moving."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
peredhil ~ half elves


	5. Untimely Guests

**CHAPTER 5: Untimely Guests**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Melpomaen's face fell. And that was a most suitable term: his mouth simply dropped open, his head moved forward a little bit, and along with that movement, his eyes bulged from their socket.

Lindir grinned.

He had been helping Erestor's assistant a little bit and so far, they had been coping with the workload. Erestor's adamant conviction that no one should be irreplaceable now came in handy: he had always made sure that at least the senior advisors and his assistant could keep Imladris working on their own (except from very important contracts and affairs of state that needed Elrond's and Erestor's attention, of course). While the advisors were working hard and long to cover up for their lord and his chief advisor, they had managed well. Until now.

Unfortunately, the lady Galadriel had just crossed Imladris' borders and was on her way to the Last Homely House, which she would prospectively reach the following day.

That incident could of course be described as untimely, considering that none of the peredhil were currently residing in Imladris. Neither was the seneschal Glorfindel, nor the chief advisor Erestor.  
Also a large part of Imladris' forces were not lingering anywhere near and they simply had no one for a proper guard to meet the Lady's convoy.

The guest chambers were naturally kept ready, they only needed to be aired, but Melpomaen found himself at a loss of what to tell the lady of the Golden Wood.  
He simply could not tell her that her son-in-law and her grand-sons were being missed, her cousin out searching them, Vilya not here and Erestor … being unpredictable as always. What that would mean for Imladris' reputation!

But the upcoming arrival was much more of a shock as the Lady Galadriel had not been in the Hidden Valley for many decades. Actually the last time she had visited personally was when Celebrían had sailed and she had seen her daughter off. And before that she had been in Imladris for the birth of her grand-children and the wedding of the silver lady. That were the only times Galadriel had visited, always with her husband at her side.

Now she practically stood at Imladris' doors. Alone except for a small personal guard of ten well-trained soldiers and her grand-daughter Arwen who had obviously decided to shorten her stay in her mother's homeland. What drastic incident could have taken place for the lady of the Golden Wood to be driven out of her beloved Lóriën?

Understandably, Melpomaen's world shattered the moment he heard of Galadriel's arrival and therefore his face fell.

"She cannot … " he squealed.

Lindir shook his head, still grinning rather sardonically. "Melpomaen. You will manage. Erestor has not made you his assistant for nothing. Now grant yourself five minutes of self-pity, then do your job!"

"Five minutes? Well, thank you for your generosity, lord chief minstrel; that is about four minutes and 55 seconds more than lord Erestor would have conceded to me."

Lindir smiled sadly, looking out of the window. "I hope he is okay."

Melpomaen looked to his friend. He still did not feel absolutely comfortable in Erestor's presence, but he somehow cared for his superior. And he missed his guidance. He felt too young and too simple to cope with the chief advisor's duties.

"He could kill twenty Orcs with one of his glares, and Glorfindel will keep him safe. He'll be alright." But he could not ban the doubt from his voice.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhil ~ half elves


	6. No Regret

**CHAPTER 6: No Regret**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
And a second chapter for today, because the last one was so short.

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Glorfindel and his party were already high in the mountains and the wind blew strong, whirling snowflakes around in a complex, fast dance and making listening and watching difficult.

The long line of his soldiers wound itself along the High Pass like a snake, riding on. Elves pressed close to the warm bodies of their mounts, their coats drawn close to shelter them from the biting cold. Glorfindel would have smiled if not for the graveness of the situation. Having crossed the Helcaraxe he knew how cruel ice and wind could become. Most of the soldiers around him were but children compared to the long life that he had experienced.

And he was leading them into a nightmarish situation with an uncertain end. His conscience heavy he turned his gaze to the path again. How many of them would not return because he needed to save his lover and family?  
But Elrond was more than that. He was the lord of Imladris, the bearer of Vilya, he was ... he was needed for the future of Middle Earth.  
It was not only *his* sworn duty to protect him, no it was *their* duty.

That didn't mean that leading them into death was any easier.

* * *

"Captain! A rider is approaching from the west!" One of his men called out to him.

Just as he turned around another call made him groan  
"Captain, it's Arveldir!"

Cursing, Glorfindel turned his horse to pass the rows of his soldiers and encounter the contrite ellon that should have been on his way to Imladris with Elrond's troublesome chief advisor.  
Immediately he knew that the tracks they had found had indeed been Erestor's; the advisor had betrayed them, or at least gone against his orders.

Finally coming to stand in front of his captain Arveldir dismounted swiftly and stepped nearer to Glorfindel so as to keep their conversation private.  
"Forgive me, my lord, I failed you."

Glorfindel shook his head. "First tell me what happened."

The soldier lowered his head, not ready to see the disappointment in his captain's eyes. So many years he had fought side by side with the fabled lord of Gondolin and earned his trust; only to break it by failing to complete the simple mission of escorting a scholar through safe lands to Imladris.

"He escaped, my lord." The shame was written on the warrior's face and in his voice. "You were right: he is rather versed in phytology. He must have given us a sleeping draught. When we woke, he was gone.  
We followed his tracks but when we noticed that he had taken the way through the valley heading east, we separated. Tauron followed him while I hoped to catch him when he returned to the path."

Glorfindel closed his eyes. Why would the young ellon betray them? And if he had not, what was he up to? Sighing he answered "He has reached the path last night. Tauron must be close on his heels. Only two hours separated him from the chief advisor. We found their tracks in the snow although we did not know that they belonged to them."

The captain raised his head to feel the wind blowing around his face.  
Nearly everyone he truly loved and deeply cared for was out there somewhere in the cold, maybe besieged by Orcs, maybe not. Dark hair and fair grey eyes entered his mind; a description that curiously fitted to each of the peredhil and Erestor, although the advisor's hair was even darker and his skin and eyes even fairer.

'Elbereth, send us your light and whisper my plea in Manwë's ears: let them live.' He silently prayed.  
Surprisingly he meant his family and the silent counsellor.  
Erestor. The darkling had known that he would not return to Imladris. Lindir had been right, Erestor had said his farewells and gone to leave his friend; he had left letters to the constants in his life: Melpomaen, Lindir and Thalion. But why had he left letters for Elrond, Elrohír, Elladan, himself and most surprisingly: for Galadriel?

The chief advisor had only met his cousin once when Galadriel had come to comfort her daughter and to see her off when she finally had sailed to Aman after her ordeal with those Orcs.  
While Galadriel had shown interest in the silent, young chief advisor, Erestor had tried his best to evade her. The golden haired elleth had not been able to stay long in Imladris but after this encounter requested the dark haired advisor's attendance for negotiations. But Erestor had always persuaded Elrond to let him stay in the valley.

Slowly he took forth the envelope that bore his name and Erestor's seal.

Arveldir looked at him, astonishment in his intelligent eyes. "That is …"

"Yes. Lindir gave it to me in case Erestor vanished without a trace or something else happened to him. But he explicitly emphasized disappearing. He said 'I think he will disappear, Glorfindel. And if this happens, then open the letters.'  
I think this is the case now, so ..."

Glorfindel looked up for a moment, then he tore open the envelope with a quick determined movement. Carefully he pulled out two pages of fine writing paper which he unfolded and started to read.

-l-_  
I am no good in writing informal letters, I fear, so I will just forego the usual exchanges of niceties – especially in consideration of our rather distant relationship. This was of course my doing and not in the least your fault. I know that you wanted to befriend me, but for me it was just easier not to. Please forgive me._

By now Lindir will probably have told you about my past. If not, please resume your lecture again later. You know that I do not like to repeat myself especially not regarding something like this.  
-l-

Glorfindel cursed beneath his breath. He would not find answers in this letter. Probably only Lindir's letter contained the necessary information about Erestor's motivations. But maybe he would find something about his current plans.

-l-_  
I can see you as if you were right there in front of me, smiling with that secretive smile and saying 'Erestor, you're not normally one to complicate things. What are you up to?'  
_-l-

Actually no. He was definitely not in the mood for smiling. But he wondered about the dark advisor's actions and moreover he became quite indignant and frustrated.

But this single sentence told him something important about Erestor's frame of mind when he had written this letter. Erestor was too intelligent to make such a misjudgement about Glorfindel's behaviour. He would never smile like that when one of Imladris' citizens vanished or died (the circumstances under which he would read those words). Whatever this was about, Erestor had been hopeless but somehow resigned, trying to make light of a dire situation.  
Again his eyes fastened on the fine blue curves and lines.

-l-  
_ But I am not up to something. I was, but when you read this, it will already have happened. There are some things that I have to tell you and some that I have to burden you with.  
Many would think them irrelevant and the time not right for some. But I know that everything has its impact, whenever it may come to light. And furthermore the following is important to me._

First of all: Thank you for caring. I know that you protected me silently in my first years in Imladris; I heard the whispers subside whenever you were near. For this you have my eternal gratitude and it earns you the right to know what happened.  
-l-

"Then tell me" Glorfindel murmured annoyed.

-l-_  
Secondly I know that you will blame yourself – you always take the responsibility. Therefore I feel it is important to say this: I have no regret. My song ends here, but for the first time in my life I feel no fear to die, …  
_-l-

Glorfindel looked up into nothingness, totally shocked. He could not comprehend what Erestor tried to tell him but it didn't matter anyway: Erestor would die. The young 'Mirkwood plague' ran knowingly into his own death.  
This could not be happening – Erestor had been safe in Imladris for four centuries and the first time he let him accompany them, he would get himself killed.  
The captain blinked, suddenly feeling his throat contract. He was now sure that Erestor had not betrayed them but something else had happened, and now he would lose the young darkling whom he had protected for so long.

"Lord Glorfindel? Captain?" Arveldir asked.

Glorfindel looked at the soldier, frowning in confusion. Maybe he should say something, he thought, but he knew not what. It just made no sense; no sense at all.  
Once again he focused his gaze on the hated words.

-l-_  
… but for the first time in my life I feel no fear to die, for it is of my own decision: I could have sailed, I could have saved myself and done nothing. But I decided to use my endowment instead and if my sacrifice saved the lives of others, it will be worth it. I am at peace with my fate._

Thirdly I need you to do something for me: I am afraid of what Elrond will think of me, that he might blame Celebrían's and Dírhael's demise on me. While I myself do think that I am not blameless, I still would feel much lighter if I knew that you all forgave me; I could not bear your disdain. Would you do this for me? Tell our lord, how sorry I am, that I tried to make amends with my deeds if he will accept them?

And then there is Lindir, who will not understand. He broke with many of his old friends for the sake of our friendship and I fear that he will be alone. Please take care of him.

Yours in great respect  
Erestor  
-l-

Arveldir looked at the seneschal with concern. He wondered what the letter contained to upset the fabled lord like it had. "Captain, what is lord Erestor up to?"

Glorfindel smiled bitterly. "Yes, Erestor: what are you up to?"

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
peredhil ~ half elves


	7. Stratagem 1

**CHAPTER 7: Stratagem 1**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
WARNING: I guess at this point I should warn all of you that there is going to be some violence from here on.

Furthermore: This chapter contains a seeming contradiction to the letter from Elrond (chapter 3: Suspicion), as Elrond's and Elrohír's roles are reversed. That was done deliberately, you'll see why soon...

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-  
This chapter contains a seeming contradiction to the letter from Elrond in chapter 3-Suspicion, as Elrond's and Elrohír's roles are reversed. That was done deliberately, you'll see why soon...

* * *

Elladan felt helpless. A rare feeling in his life and one that he couldn't handle very well. His brother sat at their father's side, silent tears running down his pale cheeks. That was a sight that he couldn't handle all too well either.

Elrond rested in the backside of the little cave they had saved themselves into, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. The poison from the wound in his right upper arm was spreading out and though they had bound it off they could not save his live without the antidote.  
Maybe an amputation would have helped but it was too late for that now: the poison was already in the shoulder. It was his fault of course: A soldier had told them that they should cut the arm off, that it was the only mean to save his father's live. But he forbade it, could not allow that to happen.

He pressed his shivering fist to his mouth, trying to keep his tears at bay as he remembered how that nightmare had started.****

FLASHBACK

They had been ambushed the day before on the High Pass by human soldiers from Angmar, if one could call those undisciplined ruffians soldiers at all. It had all happened so fast and so suddenly that it was all one chaotic blur in his memory.  
Somehow his father had made a step in front of Elrohír, taking an arrow that was meant for the heart of his youngest son. They had drawn back and covered by their soldiers the twins had almost dragged their father around a bend of the pass. Sheltered by a ledge they had helped Elrond climb into a cave some meters above the path. One by one the soldiers had saved themselves into the gap in the rocks that arched up at one side of the pass; but they had lost many in the process.

More than once the humans had tried to attack the elves in the cave, but as they were some meters above the pass and had enough arrows for a while they were able to defend their small refuge with ease. After the humans had lost nearly a dozen soldiers they resorted to besiege the Elven warriors. They were aware of the injured in the hole and that the elves were victualless.

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Elladan, Elrohír and the others knew that the hunger and more importantly the thirst would soon become a real problem. While they had only gone without drink or food for one day they knew that the lack of fluid would kill them within 7, maybe 10 days.  
Glorfindel would notice too late that they were missing and help would come too late for them. The elves knew that they would die in the black hole and maybe never be found.

The elder twin found it hard to accept this, accept that his brother would find a slow death in the Misty Mountains and his father was dying in front of them from the treacherous poison. If Elrond were awake they could maybe use Vilya's powers; maybe they would be able to escape then.

As he could not endure his brother's tears any more, he crawled to the warrior holding watch at the entrance of the cave.

Slowly they saw the darkness descending onto the surroundings. The humans knew better than to try to attack at night when the Elves could see much better than they could and they involuntarily took a relieved breath.

It was half an hour later that they saw a large black bird flowing towards them.

* * *

Tauron cursed – again; but this time he had a true reason: he had just rounded a bend of the path and a rock that had up to then obscured his vision. Now he stood for a second in the darkness seeing a mass of shimmering steel in front of him, a dark grey snake that glistened in the moonlight and wound itself along the pass over nearly 200 meters, formed by the resting armoured bodies of human soldiers, most of them situated on the western side of a small gap six meters above the path. It was probably the cave lord Elrond had written about. So most of the soldiers stood between the cave and the side from which Glorfindel would approach, the side on which he stood.

Immediately Tauron drew back again behind the rock and pressed himself against the stone. What was going on? Humans? There should have been Orcs. Was Elrond in this cave at all? What if this was a complot to lure the major part of Imladris' army away from the Last Homely House and attack it then?  
But Glorfindel would have noticed if Elrond's letter had been faked. And no one knew the lord's handwriting better than Glorfindel.

Except … maybe Erestor. And Erestor was …

Carefully the young guard looked around the rock again and tried to spot the black haired possible traitor.  
Slowly his eyes wandered over the soldiers and alongside the massive stone walls framing one side of the pass and falling downwards to the valley on the other side. His elven senses quickly made out the outlines of a small figure climbing below the pass in the darkness, moving very steadily so as to not draw attention. Dark grey clothes made it become indistinct in front of the stones and very hard to notice by the humans (especially since their attention was directed upwards to the cave), but Tauron recognized Erestor's grey tunic.  
Taking in a shocked breath the warrior pulled back behind the ledge once again and closed his eyes.  
'What am I doing here? I should be warning the captain.' The young guard wondered, annoyed with his own indecision.

But Tauron could not just leave, not knowing what Erestor was doing. What should he report to his captain, anyway?  
Very slowly and with a racing pulse he glanced around and once again spotted the figure of Erestor, clad in grey. 'At least now I know why he wore those colours the whole journey long. He must have known that he would need them as mimicry.'

The advisor had already reached the other end of the human's camp, and gradually continued his progress.

* * *

Protected from the stony walls of the cave, Elladan and the other soldiers watched the black bird soar right towards them.

"Craban?" the soldier next to Elladan asked.

The half-elf strained his eyes.  
"No, too large for a crow; that's … it's a common raven!" Elladan exclaimed surprised. Behind him, Elrohír crept nearer. "Elladan, he carriers a leather pouch … it ... it is Erestor's bird!"

Hopeful the Elves gazed forward to the large raven soaring nearer. When the bird glided into the cave, the Elves jumped out of the way, giving the animal enough room.  
Immediately Elladan approached the black raven that looked up at the elder twin, his head laid to one side. It allowed the Elf to gently unfasten the leather pouch that had been bound around its feet, then it hopped to the side, beginning to move around restlessly.  
Quickly Elladan opened the pouch and drew out a little piece of parchment. Not wasting any time he unfolded the paper and read it out aloud.

-l-_  
I stand with more than 100 men two miles away from your current position. We are too few to overwhelm them and we need your help.  
Elrond, if you are in any condition to use Vilya, then cause an avalanche to the western side of the cave when you hear a single horn signal. It will divide their troops. If you are not, then, whoever reads this, send Vilya to us so I can use it in such a manner._

Glorfindel  
-l-

Elrohír snapped the paper out of his brother's hands, his brows knitted. He knew that Glorfindel was able to use Vilya and scanning the paper's content he identified the seneschal's handwriting. But something was wrong. Something about the writing style struck him as odd.

"What if it is a trap?"

Elladan vigorously shook his head. "It is Erestor's bird, Glorfindel's handwriting, …" he paused "… and even if it were so: those humans will get Vilya anyway, when we have died of thirst. This might save us all, ada and Vilya! We have to do this, El', please."

Elladan once more opened the leather pouch and pulled out a little inkwell and the lower part of a feather, the upper part had been cut off, so it could fit into the pouch.

"Let us write an answer before it is too late."

Elrohír looked to the motionless form of his father. They didn't have much time. Slowly, the younger twin nodded and reached for his father's hand where Vilya was glistening in the dark.

* * *

Tauron watched as the black haired ellon reached a spot some 50 meters away from the last soldier that was blocked from the humans' view and unprotected from them, as they obviously didn't expect to be attacked from this side. Probably some sentries would be keeping watch further along the road. Erestor heaved his body on the path and pressed into the shadows of the stony walls, nearly invisible now even for Tauron's sharp elven eyes.

While the soldier still contemplated the question if he should head back to warn their captain he saw Erestor's huge black bird leaving the cave above the warriors and flying towards his master.  
Tauron knitted his eyebrows. That behaviour did not fit a traitor: if the advisor had been in league with those men, he would not have bypassed them like that and there was obviously something or someone in that cave. Erestor opened a leather pouch and took out something.

But it was dark and even Tauron's elven senses could not determine what it was the advisor was holding in his hands. It seemed as if he was inspecting something, or maybe he read a note. Then the black haired ellon pulled out a small item that he had kept in his pockets and put it into the leather pouch.  
Only moments later the black bird was soaring once again towards the gap.

From his position, Tauron could see some of the human guards standing when they noticed the huge common raven. But they did not react fast enough before it entered the gap.  
There was shouting in the camp soon after, when the leaders had learned about the message bird that was currently sitting in the cave. Tauron saw how they woke the whole camp and something like a chaotic (mostly pretended) bustle broke out and he shook his head in disdain on account of such unprofessional behaviour.

Those foolish humans hindered each other in their movements. There was practically no one who would be able to take a good shot at the bird once it left the cave. They were all either too near, had no clear field of fire or could not use their long bows because they simply had no space. Tauron smiled sardonically. That would *never* have happened under lord Glorfindel's command.

Long minutes passed while the soldiers were getting nervous. Shooting a bird was not at all easy, especially not at night and a black bird as well. And with their cursing and shouting leaders in their necks who were already starting to find the probable culprits in letting the raven through it was nothing less than a nightmare.  
Then suddenly the black bird dashed forward into the darkness. At the same time a shout was heard from the eastern side of the camp, clearly echoing through the night and immediately the soldiers directed their attention towards the source.

Tauron gasped.

There stood Erestor, only hundred meters from the next soldier, a torch in his hand. While Tauron's and the soldiers attention was directed at the raven and the gap above the path, he had put off his grey tunic and pulled over a deep purple one. A diadem graced his forehead and he looked every bit like an elven lord.  
The whole camp fell silent for a moment like a heart missing a beat. And into this sudden silence, Erestor shouted words that made Tauron's blood freeze in his veins.

"If you want Vilya and its bearer, come and get me."

* * *

Elladan, Elrohír and the guards waited in the cave after sending the raven away again.  
New hope had been sparkled in their souls and their hearts beat fast and loud. Neither one said a word while they sat tight.

"There comes the raven again." One of the soldiers suddenly said. They did not dare to lean outside the cave for fear of being shot, so they never saw the bird coming from the eastern side, and not from the western, where Glorfindel should have been stationed.  
The common raven had flown a rather large loop away from the mountains and approached from the valley, directly gliding into the gap between the stone walls.

The Elves were nervous, confused. Concernedly Elrohír asked what they all were wondering "Why are you here again?" Maybe there were problems? Maybe Glorfindel could not follow through with his plans, or it had been a trick after all.

They heard commotion outside, where the humans were shouting and rummaging. Probably they had seen the raven.

Elladan was quicker and more calm than his brother and the other soldiers. He grasped the leather back and opened it quickly. Seconds later he pulled out a little green flask and another piece of parchment. It was written in Erestor's fine handwriting.

-l-_  
Treat lord Elrond's wound with this antidote immediately. The poison the Hillmen from Angmar used is highly toxic. Glorfindel needs half an hour, then we will probably need more time to get you out. Treat him now, or it might be too late. Only use four drops._

Erestor  
-l-

Of course Erestor had to be near. The common raven would not leave his master.  
Determined, Elladan grasped the flask and strode towards his father. He pulled out the little cork and was about to apply the antidote when his brother stopped him.  
Elrohír grasped his arm, and pulled him back.

"What are you doing, Elladan?"

"Applying an antidote. Erestor is with Glorfindel, he knows what to do. "

"Are you sure?"

"Elrohír, be realistic. If anyone wanted to kill us, he would let us rot here. And besides: he *is* already dying. It's not as if we could make it much worse." Elladan's voice was harsh as he no longer had the patience to deal with his overly cautious sibling.

"But …"

"I *will* apply the antidote now, brother." And he pulled his arm away and drizzled four drops onto the arrow wound in the upper arm of his father.

"Get well again, help is coming!"

The moment they had applied the antidote, the common raven hopped to the entrance and flew out again.  
Elrohír knitted his brows. It was almost as if the bird had waited for them to do so. He had wanted to write a message to Erestor that his brother had applied the antidote but while the raven had patiently waited for them the first time, he now had rushed out into the night again.  
Suddenly a thought crossed his mind: the humans had seen the raven enter, they would shoot it!

He went to the cave's entrance seconds after the bird had left and then he heard a call from the eastern side. There stood a single figure on the path, merely 50 meters from the soldier's camp away; a torch in his hand and a mad smile on the handsome face.

"Erestor" Elrohír whispered shocked.

"If you want Vilya and its bearer, come and get me."

"No." the younger twin grew white. Then he looked into the cave where Elladan had applied something to his father's wound that might just have cost him his life.

"Elladan, Erestor has betrayed us!"

Just as the elder twin looked up with wide eyes full of terror there was a loud noise in the mountains above them.  
The Imladris' warriors looked at each other, fearful questions in their eyes. Some few moments passed that seemed to long forever and then silently and distantly first, but getting louder and louder very fast, there was a deep resounding roar.  
Then all went black as the snow masses flowed by at the entrance of the cave, obscuring them from every source of light.

* * *

"If you want Vilya and its bearer, come and get me."

And with this, Erestor raised his other hand. Those words broke the spell that had immobilized the humans and the first ones started to run after the advisor. Erestor stood still and suddenly a cracking sound was heard high above in the mountains.  
The soldiers running uphill towards the Elven advisor halted for a moment, confused by the sudden loud roar. Everyone looked upwards and the humans froze in shock: a slap avalanche had loosened itself, a large layer of snow went crashing down the mountain with incredible speed and force, taking with it rocks and more snow masses, growing ever larger.

Its source was directly above them, maybe half a mile away, but it was very fast and the humans had only two narrow ways out to every side: the pass on the eastern and the western side of their camp. Immediately the humans began to push against each other, trying to reach the only escape routes before they were blocked by their comrades.  
A fatal behaviour, because some were thrown over the cliff and half slid half fell into the valley below and into certain death; furthermore it slowed them down.

But Erestor was not about to leave them those escape routes. With a sardonic smile he raised his hand once again and a small avalanche loosened itself directly above the fleeing humans on the western side of the path, burying them and closing off the western escape route for the humans.

Tauron ran for his life as that second avalanche came down and did not turn back. He managed to outrun the smaller avalanche and get out of reach before the snow masses of the larger one came down on them not even a minute after it all had started, but only barely. Behind him the human soldiers were buried under snow or swept from the pass. The deep roaring of the avalanche sounded in his ears while he ran further and further.  
Much later when his body had already started to burn with exhaustion, he slipped and fell hard onto the iced snow layer that covered the path. Slowly he turned huge eyes back, but he could not see around the corner.

"Elbereth!"

* * *

Elladan dived forward and pulled back his little brother, as some of the snow went inside. The sound was deafening in the small cave and Elladan pressed Elrohír against the rocks, shielding him.  
It seemed to take an eternity, but then everything was over again, the snow masses flowing down the valley below.

Elrohír's voice hitched as he whispered "He must have caused the avalanche … Erestor."

Elladan had not witnessed what his brother had, and for the moment he blamed the shock for his brother's behaviour. After all, Glorfindel had announced to cause an avalanche. And yet it sounded like a really huge one, one that Glorfindel should not have been able to loosen; and there had not been a horn signal either...

Still it was not the right moment for asking those questions: whatever or whoever had caused the avalanche, now they needed to get out again. If they could not remove the snow masses blocking the entrance, they would suffocate.

So he addressed the other guards: "Help me, we have to dig a way through the snow."

In the darkness, the Elves groped their way to the caves entrance and began to move the snow to the sides of the cave. Luckily after only digging little more than a meter, their hands pierced through the snow and reached the open air behind it.  
Moments later, Elladan carefully leaned outside the cave's entrance. Open-mouthed he looked around. Where merely half an hour before nearly 200 soldiers had besieged them, there were now only thick layers of snow piling on top of each other.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

craban ~ crow  
ellon ~ male elf


	8. In Shambles

**CHAPTER 8: In Shambles**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
WARNING: This chapter contains violence and torture. Don't read if that disturbs you...

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

With huge eyes Tauron looked back the way he had run, still lying in the cold, iced snow on the High Pass.

He was confused, exhausted and shocked. He had not slept for the last two days and not eaten much and just barely escaped a gigantic avalanche with his life. He couldn't go any further and his mind was just not working, not grasping what had just happened.  
Was the advisor dead? Were the peredhil even in the cave? Were they now buried alive behind a thick layer of snow?  
Tears of confusion, frustration and shock gathered in his eyes until they spilled over.

After he knew not how long Tauron pulled himself together. First he had to see what was happening in the humans' camp and where the advisor was. He had eight maybe nine hours until his captain and seneschal was to arrive if everything had gone according to plan. Certainly they would not come earlier; there was time. Slowly he stood.

* * *

Elladan was still gazing over the snow masses in front of him, shocked by the extent of the destruction. Where was Glorfindel?

Suddenly he was pulled back as an arrow flew by from the east where his head had been moments before. But the Elven soldiers were quick and good archers. One of them stepped out and drew his bow, the arrow finding its way into the chest of a human. Instantly the soldier hid himself again behind the cave's entrance.

"Nine guards left."

That was a ridiculous number. There were 11 guards jammed together in the cave along with the three peredhil! Now they were not only the better warriors, they were outnumbering their enemy.

Elladan smiled sardonically. "The western side seems to be clear. Kill the nine humans. Elrohír, make our father ready for travelling."

Mere minutes later the Elves found themselves making short work with their remaining besiegers with Elrond's son determinedly leading the way.  
Elladan's rage was murderous. Those humans had killed many Elves that he had called friend, they had poisoned his father and intended to kill the rest of them.  
They deserved to die, deserved to die *painfully*.

Elves were brilliant archers with their keen eyes and the darkness and distance between them and their enemy put them in a strategic advantage: While the Elves could take good aim and nearly every arrow hit its target, the Hillmen could hardly cross the distance with their bows, let alone hitting the elven warriors.  
While Elladan's comrades shot to kill quickly and painlessly, Elladan's arrows were meant to take them out without killing them. He left the sheltered cave and approached the humans, firing his arrows into shoulders and thighs and abdomen, immobilizing his enemies and causing much pain in the process.

When the Elves had injured or killed five of the humans, the remaining four fled. But the Elves were faster, the snow carrying them much better than their prey. They hardly sank in at all and soon the four fleeing soldiers were killed with arrows in their backs or heads.

Elladan went on to the nearest wounded and pulled him up by his hair. Disdain marred the handsome features and hate burned in the grey eyes.

"Why?" he sneered "Why do your people ambush the lord of Imladris and his escort? Speak, or I will break your fingers one by one."

"I don't know, please I swear I do not know. By my family, I swear!"

Elladan grasped the arrow that was deeply imbedded in the soldier's shoulder. The sudden movement caused the man to scream in pain.

"But that looks rather painful, we should remove it. Shall I help you with that?"

Slowly the elder peredhel twin twisted the wooden shaft, scornfully looking the soldier in the eyes. But the men threw back his head and screamed at the top of his lungs.

Shocked, the Elves stood around their prince, none of them daring to interfere in the cruel torture.  
Behind them Elrohír left the cave and quickly took in what happened.

"Elladan!" He screamed. "Elladan, stop it! What are you doing?" He started running towards them as fast as he could on the irregular and treacherous snow masses.

The elder twin stopped and turned around, seeing his brother balancing on the more than unsteady ground.

"Elrohír, be careful!"

Moments later, Elrohír approached his brother, grabbing his collar and pushing him to the ground, while their comrades restrained the humans that could survive and killed the others. That left only two soldiers alive.

"What were you thinking?" he yelled. "He is a Secondborn, Elladan. You are … you cannot …" In his dismay he pushed his twin deeper into the snow, then raised a fist as if to hit him, but he stopped, lowering his arm to take his brother's face between his hands.  
Not being able to hold back his sobs, he leaned his forehead against that of his stupefied twin, rocking softly back and forth.  
"I thought you above such things … don't you see that he is but a marionette in his master's plans? Never, ever do this again, Elladan … never. Or I *will* hurt you. I swear I will not let you do things like that!"

"Lord Elrohír? … Lord Elladan? I really think we should be moving." One of the warriors softly interfered.

Slowly Elrohír stood, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. "I am sorry, Elladan." The elder twin only nodded, still taken aback by his brother's outburst.

He looked at the soldier he had questioned. One of his comrades had taken the initiative and killed the human. He had an arrow embedded in his thigh and one in his shoulder. While this was not necessarily lethal, the man would not have managed to get down from the mountains, especially not since he had lost much blood and the torture had exhausted him further.  
He could not find it within himself to feel compassion or pity towards the Secondborn, but maybe Elrohír was right. They were Elves after all; they were superior and should not use such methods.

"Any sign of Glorfindel?" Elladan asked, but his soldiers shook their heads.

"Just what is going on?"

The other Imladris' warriors only shook their heads. They didn't know and they were exhausted and hungry and thirsty.  
They had hoped to encounter friends and head for Imladris and now their enemies were dead, and no one in sight.

Elrohír turned to one of the remaining human soldiers.

"There was an elf; there at the eastern side. Right before the avalanche. Where is he?"

Fearfully the soldier glanced up into the hard face of the younger twin. He did not want to die here but he knew that the Elves would kill him the moment they had the information they needed; just as they had killed his comrades.  
Slowly he shook his head.

"Did you know who it was?" Elrohír hissed; he proceeded, when the soldier shook his head once again. "It was lord Erestor of Rivendell, chief advisor to lord Elrond. He better be safe and sound, or lord Elrond will be very upset. Where is he?" 'And Vilya ...' his mind added.

"I don't know."

Elrohír sighed. "We will take them with us. Wherever Erestor is, without victuals we cannot help him and we need to get ada into safety. Let us head west towards Imladris."

He did not mention it, but it might take them too long to get into an area where they could hunt for their food; especially for the humans: they would die first.  
And the Elves knew it.

* * *

Carefully and very slowly, Tauron glanced around the ledge that he had occupied earlier that night – only to nearly fall over from the surprise. There in the darkness the lords Elladan and Elrohír and some soldiers were heading towards the cave from the east, dragging two humans with them. The whole path was buried under a mass of snow.

Immediately he came forth, calling to his princes.  
The elves came to a sudden halt; one even drew his bow and aimed at the newcomer, but one of the twins laid his hand on the arrow.

"I am Tauron, I was sent to search for lord Erestor."  
He called out, approaching the other elves. But they were more concerned with the current situation they found themselves in and the whereabouts of Glorfindel than who had to search their chief advisor and why.

"Where is Glorfindel?"

Tauron wearily shrugged with his shoulders, than gesticulated towards the west.  
"Some miles along the path. We got news from our sentries that there had been large groups of Orcs sighted near the High Pass. Lord Glorfindel immediately assembled a … search party on account of lord Erestor's advise.  
We got your message that you were here on the top of the High Pass in a cave, besieged by Orcs. Therefore lord Glorfindel planned on arriving tomorrow afternoon with the sun in his back. You can imagine how surprised I was, seeing humans from Angmar instead of Orcs!"

The young guard carefully monitored his princes' expressions during his speech. The surprised raised eyebrows told him that they had neither written that message nor had they expected Glorfindel to be where he was.

"We have not written any messages before this evening!"

"But we got two messages, saying Glorfindel was near and about to get us out. Why is he not here? And ... Elbereth! Upon the first note I send Vilya with that raven of Erestor's ... "

"We … who has my father's ring?"

Tauron felt his stomach contract. Valar, what had this dark haired brat done?

"Erestor must have it. Right before the avalanche I saw him on the eastern side. He sent his common raven twice, so both messages must have been from him. Then he must have used Vilya to cause the avalanche."

"But why? What is he up to?"

Tauron shook his head. That young brat was pretty smart, if he had planned it all, then they could do nothing against his will.

"I don't know but it seems to me he saved your ... he saved you. But we cannot do anything about him now: I have only few supplies left, not enough to follow the chief advisor. We need to get to lord Glorfindel. The only question is: are you able to head for Glorfindel or should we wait here for him?"

"Our father was poisoned. I … I don't think that we should be moving him" Elrohír said.

Elladan turned to his brother. "I know you want what's best for ada, and remember: I want that, too. But we need to be moving. Maybe there are more soldiers; we need to get ada into safety."

Elrohír was aware that Elladan treated him with care after his outburst, and somehow it annoyed him but now was not the time to argue and so he only nodded curtly.

Sometimes it was not easy to be near Elladan. After their mother's ordeal with those filthy Orcs his elder brother had buried himself in anger and hate. It had eaten at him, changed him until there was nothing left of the noble and bright being that had been Elladan peredhel.  
For his twin seeing his other half like that was pure torment and sometimes it made even breathing hard.

Elrohír looked back to the cave. "We should see after ada."

Two soldiers carefully lifted the injured Half-Elf out of the cave, two others took the motionless lord over and laid him down on a cloak on the snow.

Together the Elves carried their lord onto the eastern side of the snow masses that had covered a large part of the High Pass. There they laid him down again to examine him.

Elrohír gently moved the clothes away from the injured upper arm and shoulder. "The swelling has already reduced a little bit. The antidote seems to be working. We should watch it carefully and maybe apply some more later."

Slowly they began their descent. Elrond lay on a cloak that six of them carried simultaneously, taking turns.

* * *

Some hours after they had left the cave, the sun rose behind the Elves who were still walking towards the withdrawing moon. They were silent the whole way long, concentrating on the path in front of them to minimize the perturbations for their lord.

Therefore all of them heard with ease the croaking voice that came from between them.  
"Elrohír, remind me … to teach you … not to move … an injured … around like that."

"Hush father, do you want to drink something?"

"That ..." he coughed dryly "... would be wonderful, Elladan."

"Stop being polite, ada" Elrohír chided gently. They laid the Elven lord down. "Let us see your arm."

Elladan positioned himself behind his father to support him while Elrohír set Tauron's flask to his lips and let him drink slowly.

"Drink as much as you can."  
Elrohír made his father nearly empty the flask, keeping the rest for later. Then he gently removed the clothes hiding Elrond's injured arm.

The healer in the lord of Imladris observed his own wounds closely.  
"That's quite swollen. The poison reached the shoulder."

Elladan shook his head. "It has already reduced quite a bit. You scared us, ada."

His twin interfered "We applied an antidote. Erestor sent it. It's working very fast, I am so glad that you have woken."

"Apply a little bit more of the antidote. Did my chief counsellor mention something about the dose?"

Elladan nodded "He wrote us to apply four drops and not more."

Now it was Tauron's time to interfere "He mentioned that this was an antidote against the poison the humans from Angmar smear on their weapons. He said that the Orcs that came from the northern parts of the Misty Mountains often use the same poison."

"That is nonsense. The Orcs use the poison of snakes, because it's simple in its 'extraction' and a kind of courage test. The Hillmen use different plants, mainly the blue rocket, or monkshood.  
Erestor knows that. But this poison was none I knew."

"But lord Erestor said it, I stood next to him." The young guard insisted.

Once again Tauron monitored his opponent's features and slowly he realized just how much Erestor had tricked them all: he had managed to be taken along, maybe manipulated Glorfindel into sending him back (although he was not sure if that had been part of Erestor's plan); He had given them an antidote and made sure that they would use it, even if they found soldiers from Angmar instead of Orcs. He had then tricked the twins into using it on their father and into giving him Vilya. Wherever that brat was, he had managed to fool them well and up to now except from stealing Vilya, everything had turned out to be for their protection.  
So maybe stealing the ring was also only serving the rescue of the peredhil.

"Well, however: it is wrong. But this elixir is obviously the right antidote."

Elrond paused for a moment, exhausted from his talk and Elrohír gave him the rest of their water. Then the elder twin drew forth the small flask with the antidote and smeared another drop onto the injury in his father's arm, grimacing as he saw his pain filled expression.

After that he bandaged the wound carefully and slowly to be sure not to hurt his father further.

Minutes later Elrond was once again dressed and the soldiers took the hems of the coat he was lying on, raising him to proceed in their journey.

"Boys, where are we? And how have we managed to get out of that cave?"

"Everything has its time, father." Elladan grinned. How he had longed to be able to tell his father the same words he had heard so many times. Elrond groaned.

"He is right. We will …"

"And where is my ring?"  
When the question was countered with silence, Elrond closed his eyes. That was bad.

A young guard interfered "Probably lord Erestor has it, my lord."

"And where is my chief advisor?" Elrond asked, though he dreaded the answer. And he was not disappointed.

"We do not know, father." Elrohír said. "But we can't do anything about that yet. We have no supplies left, and we have to …"

But the youngest twin was interrupted by one of the other guards. The soldier laid a hand on his shoulder and drew a finger to his lips.  
They heard the snow scrunching in front of them. But the moment Elrohír's voice subsided, the steps did, too. The Imladris guards formed a protective barrier in front of their injured lord, while Elladan called out to the intruder.

"Who is there? Show yourself!"

Slowly a red haired ellon, dressed in the colours of Imladris' guard, came forth, gaping open-mouthed at the vision before him. There were the missed Elves, or at least most of them, looking somewhat sordid but not as bad as they had feared.

"My lords! We have been searching for you."

Elladan nodded impatiently "So we have heard. Now please: lead us to Glorfindel."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhel ~ half elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
ada ~ father


	9. The Lady Of Light

**CHAPTER 9: The Lady Of Light**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Galadriel gracefully dismounted from her white stallion, surrounded by her proud, tall galadhrim, while Melpomaen approached her and bowed.

The lady was clad in white, her inner light radiating from her very being. A powerful elleth was she, as powerful as she was beautiful and wise. A rather intimidating combination, Melpomaen thought.  
Not less beautiful was the lady Arwen who dismounted behind her grandmother, smiling at the chief advisor's assistant in welcome.

Next to Galadriel Telchar, Glorfindel's second, was dismounting with his seven soldiers. It was a rather small party to welcome the lady of the Golden Wood but they had not been able to spare more of Imladris' guards.

"My Lady, welcome to Imladris. My lady Arwen" Melpomaen bowed again.

"Mae govannen, Melpomaen. Still no word from Elrond or my cousin?" Galadriel asked.

The poor scribe blushed furiously. "Unfortunately not, my lady."

The beautiful elleth gave the blond ellon in front of him a sympathetic look. "I thought as much. That's why I am here. Tell me what happened, we have no time to lose. Telchar here did not tell me much."

The tall ellon suppressed the need to roll his eyes. "I am sorry my lady but I only know that lord Glorfindel went to meet lord Elrond on the High Pass ..."

"... because of a worrisome increased Orc-sighting. Yes, I know." She looked to Melpomaen again and to Lindir who did not stand much apart.  
"I want to know about Erestor."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

mae govannen ~ well met  
galadhrim ~ tree people  
ellon ~ male elf  
elleth ~ female elf


	10. The Gift

**CHAPTER 10: The Gift**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Glorfindel's party had been resting near the top of the High Pass, when the avalanche had come down. They had heard the distant roar of the snow masses although they could not see it. And they had known the sound for what it was and hoped that they would not find the ones they had ridden out to rescue smashed to death by the deadly ice.

They planned on arriving at the High Pass' top that very midday and to attack the Orcs with the sun as their ally. The problem was that they would have to fight directly on the pass which meant that they would not have more than three meters contact area with the enemy.  
Glorfindel had therefore attached more importance to their archers who would fight covered by four or five rows of foot soldiers. It could end disastrous: maybe they would have to fight uphill against Orcs who would recklessly use their masses to press them back. And his archers would have to shoot uphill at targets they could not see, at short distance no less.

And he knew nothing about the local conditions. He had sent scouts ahead in the early morning hours and was expecting them back soon. But up to then he had to lead a blind manoeuvre. Hopefully he would not lead his men into death.

Concerned Glorfindel looked forward to the direction from where he expected his scouts to return and then to his men again. Maybe such a dangerous mission should not have been started to begin with but he was driven forward by his fear to lose Elrond or his sons ... how should he tell Arwen what happened? How should he tell his cousin that after not being able to save her daughter, he had lost her grand-sons also? Galadriel would never forgive him.

And he needed them, he could not imagine life without his lover. Surely Glorfindel of Gondolin would grace Mandos once more as Glorfindel of Imladris if that was to happen.  
He had sworn to protect him.

While he was thusly deeply absorbed in his dark thoughts, he was suddenly startled by a jubilant cry.  
Moments later a small party came in sight, and Glorfindel's heart missed a beat when he recognized the twins at the very front.  
They looked weary and wrecked, but they lived and walked – a good sign. His heart beating madly in his chest he spurred his horse, riding towards the newcomers. He had to proceed slowly because the path was narrow and there were some soldiers that he had to pass.

When Elrohír and Elladan spotted him, two nearly identical smiles greeted the seneschal.

"Elladan! Elrohír! I am so glad you are well. Where is your father?"

One of the twins nodded towards a spot behind him and when they stepped back he could see a strangely baggy coat held by six soldiers, that obviously bore something heavy.  
Then a hand emerged from within. "I am in here. I could walk, really, but they won't let me. My own sons and guards!"

When Glorfindel had dismounted with a grin, Elrohír stepped forward and happily embraced his step-father. "He is complaining since almost three hours. A good sign that the antidote is working."

Glorfindel knitted his eyebrows and since he could not look the younger twin into the eyes he gazed questioningly towards the elder one. But Elladan only shrugged helplessly with his shoulders.  
"Let me see Elrond, you all worried us beyond reason, you know?" Slowly he disentangled himself from Elrohír's embrace and stepped nearer to where Elrond was being laid down by weary guards. He went down on his knees and embraced his lover.  
"Never, ever do something like this again, do you hear me you stubborn, foolish Half-Elf?"

Elrond smiled sweetly. "I missed you, too. And just out of curiosity, captain, what would you advise so that we might prevent such a situation?"

Glorfindel smiled affectionately at his lover, caressing his cheek.  
"I thought you had the gift of foresight, dearest?"  
Then he looked to the guards. "Let him walk, I will help him. Rest and eat something, you have earned it."

He was about to ask Elrohír and Elladan to report to him before they rested, too, but then his gaze fell on the young guard amidst the small party and he groaned.

"Tauron? Where is Erestor?"

The dark haired soldier raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath. "That is indeed a very good question my lord. I don't know.  
But there have been some interesting occurrences that you and lord Elrond should know about; concerning the chief advisor. And these two humans need medical attention and guarding. Maybe they have important information, also."

Glorfindel nodded and looked around. Well, this was a place as good as any on this damned path to make a rest. Furthermore he wanted to look after Elrond. The Half-Elf was obviously hurt and the talk of an antidote was far from being to his liking.  
So the seneschal of Imladris gave orders to make camp. He begged some of the warriors to make a fire and to erect a place for Elrond to rest on. The newcomers seemed to be in need of a rest and something to eat, and it was provided.

Elrond was laid on a waxed mat covered with a thick blanket. It would keep the wetness and cold away.

Carefully a healer removed the bandages and saw to the poisoned wound. But Elrond, being a healer himself, could not refrain from commenting.  
"The swelling is much better. The poison is being neutralized. The antidote is really fast so you should just clean it a little bit with hot water as we were not able to do so thus far. Then just bandage it and I will be able to ride. Really there is no need to …"

The healer stopped and glared at his lord while the twins and Glorfindel tried to hide their grins. "With all due respect my lord. If someone laid in your healing wing his arm in the condition yours is in, you would have kept him in bed for another week. Possibly drugging him if it was needed to keep him there."

The lord of Imladris glared back. "But we are *not* in my healing wing, but on the High Pass. These are special conditions and I won't be carried any further on a litter! So just wash and bandage it!"

"Elrond, why is it that healers make the worst patients? And stop glaring."  
Glorfindel gave his lover something to eat and drink, while they waited for the water to be heated.  
Elrond gave Tauron some time to eat and drink as well, then he called him and his sons to his side. Arveldir came also, but stood a little bit aside and silent.

"As we seem to be spending some time here …" and he glared again at the healer who was ignoring him rather successfully "… please inform us what happened. Why are you here, Glorfindel? Not that I am complaining, mind you, but we did not expect to get help."

"Erestor." The seneschal said.

Tauron murmured "once again …" but was silenced by his captain. Elrond raised an eyebrow at the strange comment.

"I was on a patrol and just returned, when Erestor stormed towards me and told me that there had been a note from the sentries saying that Orcs from the north were spreading on the High Pass to attack passengers. He had already formed a search patrol and was only waiting for me. He showed me the sign that had been brought by a messenger bird. I only increased our numbers and broke up.  
Erestor insisted on accompanying us and so I took him along. I feared for you all and did not want to waste time on arguing with Erestor. He would have followed anyway.  
When we had just left, he let his common raven fly to find you and we got your message two days later. That was, when I send him home with two guards ... the day before yesterday."

Elladan interfered, slightly indignant "We *never* sent you a message. And we were attacked only the day before yesterday!"

Tauron smirked. He could respect a genius when he saw one, and Erestor had managed to fool the most intelligent people in the Hidden Valley.  
Elrond saw that grin but did not comment on it now. Tauron would tell his tale.

"But it was Elrond's handwriting. I recognized it!" Glorfindel tossed in, rather confused.  
"Glorfindel, can I see that message?"

The seneschal drew out a piece of parchment from under his coat and gave it to his lover who read it aloud for all to hear:

-l-_  
We were ambushed near the top of the High pass by Orcs. Elladan, Elrohír, some guards and I were able to save ourselves into a cave nearby on the mountainside of the pass , but we lost many.  
We have enough arrows to keep them at bay for some days for they can reach the cave's entrance only by climbing. But they intend to starve us out and Elrohír has a poisoned arm wound._

Be fast, I fear for him  
Elrond  
-l-

"That curiously fits to our situation. Except that it was I and not Elrohír who was wounded and that it weren't Orcs but humans."  
Elrond halted for a moment. "And this is definitely my handwriting, though *I* didn't write it."

"Erestor did, obviously." Tauron said.

"But how would he know? He must have written this more than a week before it actually happened. Probably while still being in Imladris!" Elrohír countered "Is he ... did he betray us?"

"There is much more mystery surrounding the chief advisor ... but I do not think that he is a traitor ...  
Maybe I should speak verbosely a little bit." Tauron continued unperturbed.

"I think that he *wanted* you to send him back, captain." Glorfindel raised an eyebrow and the guard only smiled to the baffled faces obviously enjoying the unique situation of knowing more than his elders and lords.

"If he had stayed with us he would never have had the chance of arriving at the High Pass' top alone, get Vilya and save our lords.  
Therefore he behaved in a way that made everyone wary towards him. He knew that we observed him and still he drugged himself quite openly. At night he had those nightmares and more and more he gave everyone the feeling that he was endangering the mission.  
But he made sure that we needed him: his common raven that was sent to find you, lord Elrond, and give you the means to write us a message; the bird that only obeyed to lord Erestor.  
We now find that the raven never reached you and that the message he brought must have been written by lord Erestor himself."

The soldier paused for a moment. "He must have known that he would be sent back the moment the raven returned. And so he timed its return to get enough time to be sent back, bypass you in the night and reach the High Pass' top the night before you would.  
I mean think about it: two days for a raven to search lord Elrond, fly to the High Pass and back to us? We would have needed four days just for the way there!

When the raven returned, Erestor was sent back, as was to be expected. And he was prepared. When we were making a short rest that he had begged us to make in the first place, he sedated us and fled. And he had everything he had needed for his escape: the sedative and the strange climbing device with which he managed to bypass you, lord Glorfindel, by climbing the whole night long, while you were resting.

I managed to follow him because despite his climbing device, he is still fading and therefore weaker; although his stamina is much better than I thought."

Glorfindel nodded. "Lord Erestor started climbing some decades ago and has, since then, been climbing thrice every week in the valley, even or especially in winter."

"I followed him up to the top of the High Pass, where I was astonished to find the lords Elrond, Elladan and Elrohír along with some guards, besieged by almost 200 soldiers from Angmar instead of Orcs like the advisor had lead us to believe.  
I am almost sure that he somehow knew what to find there but if he had told you, lord Glorfindel, that our lords were attacked by humans he would have had much explaining to do and run the risk that you might not have believed him.  
Anyway, once at the cave, Erestor used his climbing device to bypass the humans also and reached the eastern side of their camp. From there he sent two messages into the cave our lords were in."

Elladan interfered, turning to his step father. "The first one was seemingly written by you. It said that you were two miles away but had not enough soldiers to overcome the humans. Father was to use Vilya if he was in any condition to do so. If not, we were to send the ring with the raven to you, so that you could cause the avalanche ... the second one was signed by Erestor and contained the antidote." The elder twin swallowed. "I am so sorry, father. It was my idea. Elrohír didn't want to but I thought that …"

Elrond reached for his son with his good hand, catching his wrist. "Hush, it's alright. You could not have known."

"And it saved your lives." Tauron interfered and with this statement he once again drew all the attention to himself.  
"Erestor used Vilya to cause an avalanche that swept away and killed most of the humans." Then the young guard cleared his throat. "Well, I … ran … to escape the snow so I couldn't see what happened next. When I came back, the princes had already freed themselves and we began to journey east towards Imladris.  
Lord Erestor planned all that and his plans aren't fulfilled yet. He is still up to something."

Glorfindel shook his head disbelievingly.  
"I don't know but I think you're right: it does seem to me as if he wants to help us: the antidote he left me and sent to save Elrond, the avalanche … I don't want to mark him as a traitor, even though he obviously stole Vilya.  
But maybe I am able to shed some light into this matter: Before we left, Lindir came to me – nearly hysterical, I might add – Erestor had said him his farewells and Lindir was sure that he would not return. He gave me letters …"

The seneschal pulled out the remaining three letters for the peredhil and handed them over.

"Erestor wrote those decades ago and told Lindir to give them to their addressees in case something happened to him or he vanished without a trace.  
I have opened mine." Glorfindel was silent for some seconds and it seemed as if something was weighing him down, heavy worries that made him seem older, weary.  
"He wrote that he did not regret dying for us. He mentioned something in his past and an endowment but Lindir was to tell me. I don't know what it is."

"You think that he is dead?" Elrond asked aghast at this new information before looking at the envelope in his good hand while the healer was washing his shoulder. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he whispered. "Would you open it for me?"

Nodding, Glorfindel took back the envelope and opened it. A single paper was within and without reading its content, the seneschal gave it back to his lover; this was not his to read.  
Elrond took it and began to scan the content:

-l-_  
My lord,_

From all the letters I wrote the last hours, this is the hardest.  
I knew what I wanted to tell Lindir, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohír and Melpomaen, even the lady Galadriel; and I certainly know what I want to tell you, but not how to put it in words.

Lindir will have told you that I am a seer, that my family imprisoned me my whole childhood long, that they drugged me to increase the frequency and strength of my visions.  
And maybe you will think that the fear of them was reason enough to lie to you; I certainly thought so in the beginning and I suppressed my dreams with sleeping draughts. There is nothing in my live that I regret more; because my egoistic actions caused the deaths of Haradion, Aglaron, Berion and Dírhael and your wife's torture, my lord. And this, in some way, makes me a kinslayer.

I hope that by rescuing you and defanging Imladris' enemies I can make amends and earn your forgiveness.

Forgive me  
Erestor  
-l-

Elrond frowned unbelievingly. This was just too much to accept. A seer? It would certainly explain many things, but …

Glorfindel knitted his brow, seeing his lover's hands shaking. Obviously there must be something grave in his letter besides Erestor being willing to die, for that Elrond already knew.

"Elrond?"  
Pale, Elrond gave the letter silently to Glorfindel. After some moments of reading, Glorfindel whispered "that cannot be true!"

Tauron observed the lords of Imladris. If he hadn't been so curious it would have been highly amusing: Elrond grew white and whiter, obviously trying to comprehend whatever stood in this letter Glorfindel was currently reading.  
The seneschal did not manage any better, it seemed: his lips moved along with the words, his widening eyes clear signs of his disbelieve.  
The princes were … possibly shocked. Elladan had stopped reading after only a few seconds and obviously thought about continuing. After more than a minute he proceeded and his face became … blank. Just that: blank. And Elrohír was now staring down into the valley, the forgotten letter crinkled in his right fist.  
Tauron wished he had the right to ask about the letters, but he felt it was not his place; so he waited.

Finally Elrond looked to Glorfindel.  
"How can this be?" But the seneschal only shook his head, indicating his cluelessness.

Elrond directed his attention towards his sons, seeing their pallor he asked concerned "Boys? What is it? What did he write?"

But the twins shook their heads. "Mine is private and only meant for my eyes and ears." Elladan told them determinedly.  
"Mine is, too." Elrohír said "There is nothing new to learn of it except for me."

Elrond observed his sons closely. Their behaviour concerned him and he feared what Erestor might have told them, but this was neither the time nor the place to probe deeper, with all their soldiers around them.

"It seems that Erestor is a very mighty seer. In this letter …" Elrond held up the piece of parchment "… he says that Lindir should have told us about his past and he indicates that his family used his endowment in a rather cruel way. Feeding him drugs to increase strength and frequency of his visions and keeping him prisoner.  
The only possible explanation I have is that he saw all this happen and ... meddled."

"But where is he now?" Glorfindel asked. "It is over; you are safe. Why did he not come back? He has not been buried under the snow, has he?"

Elrond moved. The healer had bandaged his arm and put it into s sling and he thanked him with a smile.  
"Maybe it is time now to concern ourselves with those two human soldiers. Maybe they know something."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhil ~ half elves


	11. Poison

**CHAPTER 11: Poison**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Glorfindel sent a guard to fetch the two humans who rested with their backs against the rocks on the mountainside, wrapped in warm blankets. The Imladris' soldiers had given them miruvor and bread and seen to their injuries. One of them had closed his eyes, overwhelmed with fatigue, but the other constantly observed their captivators.

The guard strode towards the two men, addressing the one who was awake with unconcealed disgust. "Wake your friend. Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you."

The human only glared back. When the Elf raised an eyebrow and cocked his head, the men leaned forward and a little bit to his left to get to his feet. But he did not bend his legs, instead he fell back again, fear-filled wide eyes searching out those of the ellon in front of him.

Unfortunately the elven guard was not especially fond of the humans that had attacked his lords and comrades and his patience was already wearing thin. "I said stand up!" He barked.  
The human panicked. Raising one of his arm in defence he whimpered "I can't." His breathing hitched. The elf reached forward, grabbing the human's arm to pull him up but the men did not manage to tense his muscles and his legs gave way; the elven guard only pulled him half a meter, then he let go.  
Shock registered on the handsome face when he realized that the human really couldn't walk.

Immediately he went down on his knees. "Can you not move your legs?" he inquired, this time almost friendly, concerned even.  
But the human despaired. "You did that. You poisoned me! Don't you touch me, beast!" his cries echoed through the camp.

The elven lords heard the cries and Elrond tried to stand but Glorfindel squeezed his shoulder, indicating that the Half-Elf should stay where he was. The captain rushed over to where the two prisoners sat, Tauron and the twins at his side.

Meanwhile some guards restrained the still screaming human. Seeing him, Glorfindel was taken aback with shock and pity. The man was doing his best to escape his enemy, driven by mortal agony. But the elves where superior and they only needed to grab the human's arms and press him down to the ground, his legs lying useless and limp in the snow.

"What is going on?" Glorfindel demanded with all the authority he could muster.

"He snapped!" One of the guards called back.

"He cannot use his legs, now he goes berserk!"

Glorfindel's eyes widened. Then he grabbed Elrohír. "Get your father!"

The younger twin nodded and rushed back to Elrond's side, to help him over to the commotion.

Glorfindel made a few quick steps to the elves restraining the human "Get off! Away from him, everyone!"

The soldiers obeyed immediately. One nearly got punched by the prisoner who started to fight again, feeling the elves backing away from him. Sobbing he used his arms to pull himself back to the rocks he had leaned against, the stone giving him much needed support.

Slowly, Glorfindel went down on his heels, two meters from the bundle of misery that still tried to get further away.

"Calm, child. We are not going to hurt you."

"Stay away!" the human pressed out through clenched teeth, his voice hoarse from crying.

"Do you have an injury on your legs?"

Slowly, Elrond approached from behind.  
"I will take over from here on. Thank you, Glorfindel."

The elven lord went down on his knees and slowly crawled towards the prisoner as if he was a frightened, injured animal.  
"I am a healer. May I?" He looked into the wide eyes full of anguish.  
"I won't hurt you. I am Elrond Half-Elven. You have nothing to fear from me."

But the human knew otherwise. He and his comrades had hurt the Half-Elf and killed many of his guards. They had besieged and would have killed them. No, his captors had reasons to hate him and he was sure they did. He remembered all too well how that dark haired elf had tortured one of his comrades, how they had killed them.  
They had poisoned him and slowly he felt his fingers going numb. God, he didn't want to die like this.

"Please …" he did not know what he was begging for, but maybe it mattered not.

"Let me help you."

"You are part human."

Elrond nodded.

"I don't want to die."

Elrond took that as permission to touch the young soldier and see what it was.  
"Can you move your legs?"

"No." There was so much fear and desperation in that single word.

The peredhel pinched him in one leg and the guard jerked, making the question if he had felt it unnecessary.

"It's spreading." The human whispered.

"Where?"

Elrond heard the small sob and felt his throat contract. He could guess what the young one was missing and it meant a very realistic chance that he would die within the hour.

"Into my fingers and arms. And my hip." The man looked up into his eyes, pleading with the Elf lord to tell him that he could stop this, but he saw the truth in the grey eyes. And in this moment, he knew that he would die. He lowered his head to shield his tear stained face.

"Now listen: you have been poisoned. I have seen snake-poison from Mirkwood having similar effects. It will paralyze you slowly. Within the hour you will not be able to breathe anymore."

The human drew a shivering breath, trying – but failing – not to sob and Elrond hurried to continue. He had frightened their prisoner, but he had always thought it best to tell his patients exactly what they had to expect.

"I have no antidote, but I know of something, that might save your life." Elrond laid his slender fingers under the man's chin and lifted it until he had made eye-contact again.

"The elves in Mirkwood do it, when one of them was bitten. Most survive. The poison will not paralyze your heart, but your lungs. If we ventilate you in turns for some hours, we can possibly keep you alive until you can breathe for yourself again."

The brown eyes filled with reluctant hope.  
Then they wandered to his side where his comrade was still sleeping and his face became emotionless. They had killed him. This was no sleep one awoke from. The grey skin told as much as he needed to know.  
Those Elves had killed him, both of them. They wanted answers, and the prize he got for them was his life. But in the end, they would kill him, too. Just as they had murdered his brother in arms, his friend, his comrade.  
Hate filled eyes turned towards the lord of Imladris.

"And in exchange, you want to know where that other elf is, I would guess."

"Not in exchange for your life, no. But I want to know nonetheless."

There, he should have known it. The blasted elf would kill him. Not even the right answers would earn him his survival. The elven lord was not even pretending that they would let him live when he told them all they wanted to know. Hate filled eyes locked with the grey ones of Elrond.

"He is dead." He sneered. "Buried under the avalanche he himself caused; swept away from the path down into the valley with my comrades. I hope he did not die instantly but choked to death on the snow just as I will suffocate."

Elrond blinked. Then his eyes wandered to the other prisoner and he understood. Silence spread around them, while Elrond looked into the brown eyes, trying to read the truth in them. But without Vilya, he felt so weak and helpless and he was unable to decide if the human had been truthful.  
Maybe Erestor was dead. This was even the most probable answer.  
Oh Elbereth! That this sweet darkling had to grace Mandos before he had even tasted love just once …  
Elrond looked aside, tears gathering in his eyes.

Meanwhile the human watched with grim satisfaction how the elven lord reacted to his words. His hand searched behind his back, searched for something and then winding up with a rock in his hand he tried to smash Elrond's head with one single stroke. But elves have so much faster reflexes.  
While one guard pushed his lord aside to evade the stone, the young human was pierced by no less than three swords.  
Death came quickly for him as one blade hit his heart.

"No." Elrond whispered shocked. Now there was no one who knew what had happened to his chief advisor. No way to find out the truth before it was possibly too late.  
Glorfindel took his lovers arm, gently helping him stand.  
"Well reacted!" Glorfindel said. "Cover the corpses with rocks and stones as best as you can. But be careful to leave the path free." He laid one hand around Elrond's chest and guided him away.

Elladan stood near the corpses. Oh how he wished he had questioned them when he had had the chance. But then he touched the letter that he had tucked behind his leather waistcoat. That was exactly what would kill him, and Elrohír. With tears in his eyes he looked to his twin, Elrohír immediately catching up on his distress and silently coming nearer to comfort him.  
"Come, brother."

Elrond let himself be steered towards his earlier resting place by his blond lover.  
"We have a traitor" he murmured only for Glorfindel's ears. "Someone killed them so we could not inquire about why those humans attacked us or where Erestor is. Someone here is a traitor."

Glorfindel wished he could deny the conclusions Elrond had drawn; but he could not. He just did not know which one of his guards was able to do this. On the other hand ... that could mean that Erestor still lived.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
peredhel ~ half elf


	12. Dearest Friend

**CHAPTER 12: Dearest Friend**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
You might notice that the reasons that Erestor gives for his actions are varying throughout the letters. That was done on purpose, because obviously he didn't want anyone to guess all of his reasons and only told the ones he thought the reader would believe soonest.

WARNING: I almost forgot: there is the mention of child abuse in this chapter, but not much more than what was already hinted at in previous chapters.

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Galadriel and Arwen had refreshed themselves and washed away the journey's dirt before summoning Melpomaen, Lindir and Telchar to Elrond's private chambers as they had decided that those were the rooms less likely to be overheard.  
To ensure their privacy Haldir, the captain of Galadriel's guards, was keeping watch outside.

Within the chamber the elves had taken seats in the comfortable arm chairs and settee that were arranged around the fire place in the living room. While Arwen sat next to her grand-mother with a grave expression on her beautiful face, obviously knowing the reason for their meeting, Melpomaen and the others were left to wonder about Galadriel's sudden appearance. They already knew that it had somehow to do with the chief advisor and this might explain why the lady of the Golden Wood had not bidden one of the senior advisors to follow her but Erestor's assistant and why the minstrel was here; still they tensely awaited further information;

After some moments Galadriel finally started, addressing the captain of Imladris.  
"So my son-in-law and my grand-sons are somewhere on the High Pass maybe under attack of Orcs or being kidnapped by them.  
My cousin went out to save them, with Erestor."

Telchar nodded. That was what he had told the lady of the Golden Wood so far, and what he knew.

Next to him, Lindir nervously moved around on his chair, thinking of Erestor's letters. There was one for Galadriel, also. But he hesitated to mention them; the lady would probably insist on seeing them and he did not want to betray Erestor's trust. After all, he did not know so far if the chief advisor was well and would return. Until then, he could not open them.

_**** But you can.****_ He heard her voice in his head. _**** Erestor has probably already vanished. I saw this happen, Lindir. That is why I am here. He will die, if we do not act *now*. ****_Her eyes caught his in what seemed like a battle of wills; Galadriel's mind ever searching, the minstrel's trying to keep up his inner strength and not to give in. But the presence in his thoughts was overwhelmingly strong, yet comforting and he found his barriers crumbling quickly under waves of grief and fear that her words had evoked.

With a deep shivering intake of breath, Lindir yielded, not able anymore to keep back his tears. He didn't want Erestor to die. _**** I want to help, mellon. But without your help I don't know how. ****_

"He gave me letters in case something happened to him." His voice shook.

"Then quickly give me mine, and read yours."

The white haired ellon nodded, while Melpomaen observed the exchange and wondered what he had missed. Telchar looked from Galadriel to Lindir and back, a frown marring his fair features. Only Arwen seemed calm and unsurprised, her compassionate gaze resting on the young minstrel.

Lindir slowly reached behind his tunic and pulled out three envelopes that had been safely tucked away behind his waistcoat.

"I gave the ones for the lords Elrond and Glorfindel and the princes to lord Glorfindel and told him to open them if … the conditions, Erestor named, were to emerge."

"You did the right thing." Galadriel gently said in an effort to calm the white haired elf's conscience as she reached for the envelope.

Slowly Lindir turned to Melpomaen. "There is one for you also."

Melpomaen nodded curtly not really knowing what was happening, but understanding that whatever it was, would probably decide Erestor's future. He took the envelope carefully; almost as if it could burn his hand.

The chief advisor's assistant looked around. Spotting lord Elrond's desk, he stood and walked over to take a paper knife and loosen the seal. Gently he opened the envelope, revealing a folded piece of parchment; Erestor hated it when someone tore paper, even envelopes.  
His heart beating, he unfolded the parchment, but soon closed it again.

"He begs me to wait until you have told me something." He said to the minstrel before going over to the living room suite again to give Lindir the letter opener, but the minstrel head already torn open the envelope in his growing anxiety.

Four papers of fine letter paper were inside. He took them out and began to read silently and quickly, his eyes scanning the content.  
Soon more tears escaped his eyes to trail down his pale cheeks.

-l-_  
Dearest friend,_

_I have no words to say how sorry I am, I will not have told you what this letter contains and I know you will ask yourself if I didn't trust you enough._  
_So let me take this one sorrow from your heart. I trusted you, trust you still and I love you like a brother. But the following is part of a darker past I tried to forget about. I did not want to bring it up ever again, not with you and not with anyone else. You knew that I always had my secrets and you accepted that when you became my friend. Accept it now, too and don't let yourself be weighted down by it._

_This will be some kind of memoirs and a testament in some way, for I will probably be dead already once you read these lines. You shall have everything that is in my rooms. Give to Melpomaen what you think I wanted him to have. You know me best, Lindir, you will do the right thing and even though I know it to be sentimental I can't write a proper testament. I hope you understand._  
-l-

Lindir flicked through the next lines and, noticing that the following was revealing what Melpomaen probably had meant when he said Erestor wanted him to tell the others something, he read it out aloud with a breathy voice.

-l-_  
I was born in Mirkwood to an elleth called Lalaith. She must have been a gentle and jovial being to have earned such a name. But I didn't know her. She died soon after my birth when she fell into the Enchanted River and drowned. As my father's identity was unknown I was taken in by her eldest brother.  
I could say that he cared well for me, that I lacked nothing, that my childhood was a joyous one. But it would be a lie. As far as I can remember I was ever a prisoner in his house. I was only allowed to go outside with my cousins or one of my uncles and I never met another elf that didn't belong to my family.  
I lived a sheltered life in a mithril cage, but it was a cage nonetheless.  
At first I did not understand why, but it became clear to me when they started drugging me. I must have been seven at the time.  
_-l-

Lindir's voice broke.  
"I am sorry, I can't." With teary eyes he watched as Galadriel stood and took the letters from his hands.  
Compassionately she looked the white haired ellon into the eyes. Compared to her, he was so young; he had never seen real misery before ... but she had.  
"Let me read this to you."

And with a steady voice she continued.

-l-_  
I have always had visions of the future, but they were neither clear nor frequent enough for my family. My uncle is an advisor at Thranduil's court and knowing the future gave him all the means to improve his position quickly and to become an important asset to our majesty's entourage. And he used my ability well.  
So I was seven, maybe eight when I became addicted to whatever they gave me at that time, some hallucinogens. But this caused my dreams to become too frightening and visions would merge with gruesome hallucinations. I could not bear it, I was afraid of everything and everyone, I was afraid of the dark, of sleeping, of the forest's voices, of my uncles and my cousins. But more important for my family: I could not distinguish between dreams and visions. And so they changed their methods.  
They tutored me in everything that would help me categorize the pictures and scenes I saw: I learned everything there was to know about geography and phytology, architecture and ethnology. All this to ensure that I could tell where and when my vision would take place. This proved to be rather difficult for I had only pictures to learn from, as I was not allowed to travel. In addition I was given psychedelic drugs instead of hallucinogens. And they noticed that alcohol made my visions come more frequently – although my dreams became once again more frightening.  
Since then they made me drink half a bottle wine each evening. In the beginning, my body was not able to cope with the large amount of alcohol. I was after all only a child – 12 at that time. But I got used to it and every now and then they incremented the dose._

_Soon they thought that I should learn battle strategies and politics also so I would understand the meaning of my dreams. I learned to correlate every important person in middle earth to a face as well. I was shown pictures of all the high-ranking elves and men and dwarves from Gondor to the Grey Havens._

_I had seen lord Elrond before I came to Imladris; I knew lord Glorfindel's face and his history, lord Dírhael and his opinions regarding Greenwood and other realms and his tactics in council._

_Ironically enough, they taught me everything that later made me a good advisor to our lord though for different reasons._

_But my visions were often violent and took their toll on me: I started fading. I don't know when it began but my cousin noted it when I was 27. Still I pulled myself through every day. They told me that I was needed – that they needed me –that I couldn't leave; and never having heard or experienced anything else I stayed and survived. I became cold and distant and I withdraw – but I lived, and at the same time I did not._

_It all changed one day around my 41st birthday. The one who usually drugged me was not available and someone else did it instead. He accidentally overdosed the psychedelic drug._  
_I remember that my visions were more vivid, more real. I was taken aback by the experience and absolutely overwhelmed. I did not sleep, instead I saw the imminent future mixing with the present, I saw my minder panicking at my violent reaction before he actually did and sobbing I begged him to come back, only causing him to bolt and leave me alone. I was terrified, I thought I would lose my mind or die._

_It was the first time I dreamt of my death and it was like it did really happen right there in my chamber._  
_I did not notice when the youngest of my uncle's sons rushed to my side to sooth me and it was hours before the drug wore off._  
_My cousin saved me that night –at least my sanity. His calm voice and his arms around me grounded me – kept me on this world when all I could think about was me dying._

_I did not speak for a week. I was traumatized and I needed time to understand what I had learned about my own future. Then I told them that I would never do this again: I could not make them stop of course, but I could stop telling them about my visions. And this I threatened I would do if they continued to drug me._

_But my uncle was too ambitious and in a way, ruthless to let my little revolt hinder him in his plans and career. And so I was forced to marry the eldest of his sons. Bound to him there were ways to make sure he could see my dreams._  
_I stabbed him when he led me to his bed and I fled; just in time to prevent the bonding, if not the marriage._

_I was weak and suffered from an alcohol withdrawal but I managed to hide myself and two weeks later Thalion found me. He took me in, he cared for me and he hid me. And everything he got in turn were lies. Well, I never actually lied to him, but I might as well have been lying._

_When his unit found me I was confused and scared and half famished. He wanted to take me back to the capital and I just stood there and then I started to sob and I begged him not to and I rambled on about my uncle having forced me and my cousin having touched me._  
_I think I did not realize at that time what Thalion would think but he drew me into his arms and asked no more and I knew he thought I had been violated. Still I let him believe that half-lie._

_He brought me to Imladris when I said I could not stay any longer in Greenwood._  
_And that was all I wished for various reasons; not the least of them that I wanted to prevent Elrond's and Glorfindel's death which I had seen that fateful night. I also hoped that I could be safe in the Hidden Valley: my death was to take place in Greenwood and I guessed I would be safe when I never returned._

_I found a new life in Imladris. I worked hard and Dírhael was always there, his gentle and understanding nature helping me to forget the past. But I was wary: maybe they would try to use me as my uncle had if they found out about my ability. Only time taught me that there was no need to be afraid of my new found ada or the peredhil family._  
_But the damage was done, my lies told. I did not know how to bring it up, so I let my uncle and my husband rest._

_I am sorry that I insulted you that day in the Hall of Fire, but maybe now you understand that I simply never learned how to socialize. I never meant any offence with my careless comment but how to complement you for your beautiful voice, I did not know._

_Thanks to you our relationship changed with the next drastic incisive event in our all life: when Celebrían was captured and Dírhael murdered I understood that my own egoistic nature had caused it._  
-l-

Galadriel swallowed a lump in her throat, remembering that 'incisive event'. But she knew that Erestor could not have changed it. She herself had tried to change it and just made it worse.  
For a moment she looked to Lindir, who was sobbing on the settee while Arwen and Melpomaen did their best to silently comfort the white haired minstrel.  
How she wished Erestor had consulted her, she would have been able to help him understand his visions. Now her help might come too late.

Frowning she concentrated on the parchment in her hand again.

-l-_  
If I had not taken sleeping draughts to suppress my dreams, if I had taken the psychedelic drugs instead, I could have foreseen, could have prevented it. It was my fault and I covenanted that I would honour them, that I would save lord Elrond and lord Glorfindel and that I would dream again._

_Since then I confined myself to my rooms once every year and took a high dose of the psychedelic drug my uncle had used on me. Over the years I learned to handle my reactions and to cope with the mixing sensations and images. I learned to see and react to the visions._  
_But every year I saw my death and worse: Elrond's, the twins', Glorfindel's and yours also. Throughout the years I waited for signs and collected all the information about the coming incident that I could._

_Still I don't know when or where it will happen. Only that you and I will die in Imladris, along with Glorfindel when our beautiful valley is raided by humans. Elrond will die somewhere in the mountains with his sons, their death coming from the hand of a human, also._

_I think they hail from Angmar. But they would not dare to attack Imladris while Elrond protects it with Vilya. So they will probably attack him on the mountain pass either to Lóriën or Greenwood and try to take Vilya from him._  
_But they will have help from elves or else they would not wait for such an opportunity. Elrond seldom leaves the Last Homely House and men cannot afford to wait a century or two._  
_Therefore it is my opinion that this wretchedness does not have its origins in Angmar but in one of the elven realms._

_Until I have found out more, I will keep quiet. But we have still time, Imladris' countenance will change somewhat before this happens, and only then I will reveal my I feel the need to write this letter. I know that I will die, whatever I change I can only change the circumstances of my death. But know that I accepted that and that I welcome my destiny._  
_I understand that this ability of mine is a gift from the Valar or Eru himself to save lord Elrond and his family and Imladris with her residents – for I dream of nothing else these days. Like lord Glorfindel, I am here to protect. This is why I can bear the visions and this is why I carry on._

_This letter is only for you in case that something happens to me before I ever told anyone. Please forgive me, mellonen. Your friendship means so much to me, more than you can imagine._  
_Whatever will have happened when you are reading these lines, know that I meant well and please don't think less of the others their letters and tell them what is in yours, I do not want to write this down more often than absolutely necessary._

_Yours forever_  
_Erestor_  
-l-

Galadriel took a steadying breath. Erestor – in all his intelligence – had obviously never understood how prophesying worked. Erestor had fallen for the trap she feared for whenever she foretold something. What they saw was only a possible future and Erestor – striving to change what he thought to *be* the future – had made his visions come true. A self-fulfilling prophecy: seeing it, he had caused it to happen.

"The following he wrote obviously some years later. The ink is not nearly as bleached."

-l-_  
Dearest friend,_

_I have dreamt again. Imladris was whole and safe, as were Elrond, Glorfindel, the twins and you my friend._  
_But I saw you crying and opening the letters and this means that I will have died. Still I do not know what I will have done, but it matters not: you will live and all will be well._

_I know now that my uncle is behind it all: He would have caused the death of many elves and made an alliance with the last Hillmen from Angmar. I have seen their demise; they will pay for their falseness once again._

_The only thing I want to guarantee is that my family is punished for their betrayal. But Thranduil will not take interference from Imladris well. Therefore I want you to send a message to Thalion. It is in the writing table in my rooms. It adds to the one that I had intended for him and will give him all the information he needs to react accordingly. Please do not open it._

_Today I will tell you of the letters. I hope you won't be too upset._

_I love you like a brother, do not ever forget that and hold on to the certainty that we will meet again._  
_Erestor_  
-l-

"I could have prevented this had he just not avoided me like he did." Galadriel whispered with a grim expression.

Lindir was weeping openly now, while Arwen still tried her best to console the minstrel.

Erestor's assistant looked from the crying Lindir to the lady of the Golden Wood and eyed her closely. Galadriel seemed to be lost in thought, her eyes narrowed to a frown.

"Do you think this is true?" He asked her. "Is he really a seer?"

She nodded. "When first I met him, he intrigued me. And hearing the more than malign gossip, I wanted to see for myself, what was true and what was not.  
Elrond was lost in grief, Glorfindel trying to help him and my grand-children ... and my sweet Celebrían was fading. I wanted to see if the one that was currently running Imladris almost singlehandedly could be trusted when he had just lost his own father and was seemingly untouched by it." She stopped and looked to the three ellyn and her grand-daughter.  
"I just entered his mind, when he threw me off, almost hurting me. "

**FLASHBACK**  
The newly assigned chief advisor was walking towards his own office. He had had a very tiring council meeting and headed for his quiet sanctuary to clear his mind – oddly enough with more work.  
He was wearing black as a symbol of his grief. A mocking symbol, as many thought, because Erestor did not seem able to love someone dearly enough to grieve his demise.

Galadriel wore a dark blue which was a hard contrast to her normally light and fair dresses. Her daughter would begin her journey to the Grey Havens in a few weeks and then she would leave also for her beloved Lóriën, taking her grand-children with her.  
Eru knew, the three young elves needed some time to heal, and Imladris could not grant them the tranquillity to do so.

The lady of the Golden Wood entered Erestor's office unnoticed. The dark ellon was massaging the bridge of his nose and had closed his eyes.  
"Chief advisor."  
He looked up and stood. "My lady Galadriel. Forgive me, I did not hear your knocking …"

Galadriel inclined her head, observed the dark counsellor and tried to enter his mind, while speaking words of greeting.  
Slowly and carefully she prodded until his mental barriers gave way. Normally no one really noticed when she probed their mind until she spoke; only very mighty elves could do so. And Erestor was too young to be able to withstand someone as old and experienced as the lady Galadriel. She didn't expect any difficulties.  
But she was encountered with a chaotic mix of feelings, Erestor's feelings: his grief and sorrow, the doubt regarding his fellow elves, regarding Lindir. And something else. A power that Galadriel had not expected.  
That power reacted to her presence. Once discovered, it attacked her mind forcefully, shoving her backwards.

Wide-eyed Galadriel pressed her lips together. Erestor had lowered his head, his eyes narrowed and sweat gathered on his forehead. Then with a last effort, he pushed her from his mind and Galadriel nearly fell backwards.  
Both were breathing heavily. Confused eyes met the counsellor's dark ones while Erestor retreated further away from the Lady of the Golden Wood, eying her warily.

"Can I do something for you, my lady?" He pressed out.

Quickly Galadriel pulled herself up and straightened. She felt confused: never had this happened before, never had there been an elf able to push her back like that. Almost frantically she searched for an answer to his unexpected question, not finding one as her heart hammered in her breast and the strong echo of his chaotic feelings rushed through her. Something was eating at him.

Deciding to pursue this thought, she asked a little bit breathless "How do you fare, lord Erestor? You should allow yourself to grief."

"I did. If that is all, my lady." He gestured to the door. "I don't want to be rude, but there is still much to do."

"If you need help, Celeborn and I could leave two of our advisors to help out until Elrond can return to his duties as lord. You seem to be jaded yourself."

Maybe Galadriel had been a little more her diplomatic self, but it was the first time she had been overwhelmed by a youngster that had not even seen his 250th birthday. The experience left her shaken.

"Thank you, but no … thank you ..." Erestor replied. He gave Galadriel a wary look before he steeled his face and continued a little bit more politely.

"… for your kind and generous offer. But we will manage and you will probably need all your advisors yourself. I would not want to trouble you …"

"Helping my son-in-law and my grand-children is really no trouble at all …"

"I must insist. It would reflect badly for Imladris, if her counsellors could not even manage to steward her while lord Elrond is indisposed. I certainly mean no disrespect, my lady. But I think it for the best."

The lady of the Golden Wood inclined her head and left the office.  
**END OF FLASHBACK**

Galadriel shook her head. "I knew that he was no real danger to Imladris, I had sensed that. But since then I tried to solve the mystery of his origins. Elrond refused to tell me.  
But Erestor never followed my invitations to Lóriën, even risking being rude in the process. I think he might have feared me. Now I know why."

She unfolded her letter and silently began to read, while Melpomaen did the same.  
But both letters did not reveal further information: while Melpomaen's was merely some kind of personal farewell, Galadriel's contained an apology and explanation for Erestor's behaviour along with the solicitation to support a certain captain Thalion in his endeavour to convict his uncle; still ...

"No names." The golden haired elleth gave words to her last thought.

The two Ellyn looked towards Galadriel. "We need to open Thalion's letter to save Erestor. I saw him die in Mirkwood, we still have time, but it's running short."

Melpomaen quickly volunteered to get the letter, took the key that Lindir gave him and rushed to Erestor's chambers. He even ignored the offers to accompany him from Telchar who had up to now only followed the conversations and rushed out into the corridor, past Haldir.

Truth be told, the assistant was a little bit overwhelmed with the current development. The gift of foresight was a very rare gift and if what Erestor had written was true, that made the counsellor the mightiest known seer in Middle Earth. A frightening prospective.

He needed the walk to Erestor's chambers and back: it would grant him much needed minutes to clear his mind and come to terms with everything that had been revealed to him during the past hours.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

mellon ~ friend  
mellonen ~ my friend  
ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves  
ada ~ father  
peredhil ~ half elves  
phytology ~ The study of plants; botany.  
ethnology ~ The science that analyzes and compares human cultures, as in social structure, language, religion, and technology; cultural anthropology


	13. You Always Meet Twice

**CHAPTER 13: You Always Meet Twice**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
WARNING: if you've read that far, there is nothing to warn about except if you have ignored all the other warnings: talk of violence and child abuse...

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Without thinking, Melpomaen's steps carried him automatically to his superior's chambers, later he would not even remember how he got there but suddenly, it seemed, he stood in front of Erestor's doors. He grabbed the doorknob and just as he wanted to turn it and push open the wooden doors, they glided open themselves.  
Melpomaen knitted his brows. He was sure that Erestor would have closed it, as he always did, even when he got to work.

Erestor was very fond of his privacy and almost paranoid he constantly feared someone could intrude into his chambers. For a moment he listened for noises from within. Nothing.  
Then he pushed the door open the rest of the way. Not seeing anything that stroke him as odd he proceeded, slowly approaching the wooden writing table of the chief counsellor. Everything in order so far. He began to relax again. Maybe Erestor had been lax and not closed the door, no Elf was impeccable after all and he had been behaving strange the day he had left – no wonder considering the circumstances.

But when his hand reached for the first drawer he hesitated. The lock had been broken, the wood around it damaged. Someone had gained entry to Erestor's rooms. With erratic movements he opened it and frantically searched for an envelope that bore Thalion's name. There was none. Despairing, he opened the second drawer, this time with the key but still he found nothing. Also the third did not contain what he was searching and Melpomaen stood.  
Distressed, he pressed a fist to his mouth, trying to calm himself. If they did not find that letter, Erestor was as good as dead.

And how in the name of Eru could someone possibly have known of the letter?  
Quickly he ran back to Elrond's rooms where Lindir and Galadriel were waiting for him.  
He stopped himself just before rounding the corner that lead to the family wing and straightened his robes. With a calm appearance he passed Haldir again (who gave him an odd look, having heard the scribe's running and rustling) and – civilized, as Erestor would have appreciated it – knocked.

"Yes?" he heard Galadriel's demanding voice and entered.

"My lady. It has been stolen."

She immediately stood "WHAT?"  
"No!" Lindir cried out in dismay while Arwen clasped a white hand over her mouth.  
Telchar jumped to his foot.

"The door was unlocked and the writing table forced open. There was no letter."

Lindir desperately tore at his white hair.

The captain's second looked darkly to the lady of Lóriën. "So Erestor's family has infiltrated Imladris. They must have been planning this for quite some time."

Galadriel stared out of the windows. "We have to find the traitor and the envelope. We need to know who is behind all this."  
Nenya glistened at her hand. "I will know who it is, when he stands before me. Arwen, Telchar, please call everyone in Imladris together, so I can probe their minds. If I do not find the culprit, we know that he fled during the last hour.  
He must have heard me reading the letter to Lindir, possibly from a neighbouring room or the balcony."

The soldier nodded determinedly and exited the room with his lady; Galadriel, Melpomaen and Haldir following them.

Lindir stayed behind, feeling utterly lost. He treasured Erestor's friendship beyond anything. Yes he had many fleeting friends, many acquaintances, but with Erestor, he had found his first *true* friend. The one he knew would be there to let him make his own mistakes and help him to pick up the shards afterwards, the one who would not only be his companion in good times but in bad ones also. He could not lose that friendship.

"It will add to the letter … add to … the letter." He whispered, repeating Erestor's words.  
Swiftly he pulled out the last remaining letter. The one that was addressed to Thalion. He weighed it in his hands. It was thicker than the others. Erestor had probably recounted his history to his saviour like he had done in the letter for Lindir, only a little bit more detailed.  
'Please do not open it.' The words resounded in his mind. "Forgive me."

This time taking the letter opener that still lied on the table he cut the envelop open. He took out the papers and began to read. It enclosed the same story that Erestor had written into his own letter, but more detailed in regard to the events that had happened in Mirkwood.

He mouthed the words that sprung into his eyes.  
"My uncle Brandon raised me… advisor at King Thranduil's court … named me Elethael … ". Lindir clenched his teeth. Erestor's uncle had obviously cared for his charge very well. He had only been interested in his ability to foretell the future. That damned ellon had even named Erestor 'all wise'.

Erestor then described his life in Mirkwood, the experimental way in which his family had drugged him to 'get the best results'. More than in his own letter, Erestor characterized his mother's relatives and showed his hate towards them.

Lindir read about the incident on Erestor's 41st birthday, when he had gotten the overdose and how his cousin Fiondil had kept him safe and how they had decided to marry him to one of his cousins.

-l-_  
My family did not bear me any love. Some of them might have desired to become my mate because that bond was a promise of power, but most did not wish for the restrictions that came with it. The only one who might have, in some way, truly cared for me was Fiondil, the youngest of my cousins, but the smartest also. Be sure to never underestimate him._

_Although he kind of saved me in that fateful night, he is in my opinion the most dangerous of them all. For beyond anything else he is of an egoistic nature and being the youngest of my cousins, he has ever learned to play intrigues so clever and smart that he would soon have pulled the strings within our family if not for his father, my uncle. Brandon knows his son too well, and that is why Fiondil, although claiming he loved me, was not to be my husband. Brandon wished for his eldest son to bind with me._  
_I was so afraid when I heard of his plans, because Magron tends to be brutal and obstinate. He is a warrior through and through and he would have been hard on me._  
_I knew this, and I was afraid._

_Of course, Fiondil noticed my fear upon hearing the news and he came to me afterwards. He comforted me and gave me a knife – nothing special, just a serving knife – and told me to use it for defence against my future husband._

_That was one day before the marriage. But I did not use the knife then, although Magron was my guard for the night and I could have used it. I knew that Fiondil waited there somewhere in the dark, waiting for my escape. Maybe he would have forced me into bonding with him then so that Brandon could do nothing against it. Or he hoped that I would kill his brother so that he could marry me instead. It is not easy to fathom Fiondil._

_But he knew: whatever I did, no one would charge me for it. I was not a person, but a weapon. And if I had blamed him for giving me the knife he would have denied it, would have said I had stolen it. Who would have believed me anyway? But if he would have gone directly against his family, they would have punished him hard. He wanted to avoid that by making me a murderer._

_If I had used the knife that night, Fiondil would have taken over and I would have exchanged one prison for another. And so I waited for my chance: I kept the knife hidden and I married Magron the following day. Fiondil watched me and told me, that if I could not attack him, he would do it for me and we would escape together then. This was what I had waited for. I told him that he should wait in front of my doors, to save me in case I could not use the knife and that I would gladly flee with him once we disposed of my husband._  
_He complied, believing my lies, and thereby gave me a free escape route out of the windows._

_I had not had the possibility to take the knife to the wedding itself, I had to hide it in my chambers (for it was agreed, that we would fulfil the bond in a setting that I would be comfortable with. As if being raped in one's own bed would make the act any better)._

_After we had spoken our vows Magron led me to my bed and bound my wrists together over my head and stripped me. I was nearly panicking as he began to grope me but as I had foreseen this, I had hidden the knife in the slit between mattress and wood, exactly where my hands lay._

_I managed to free myself while he was otherwise occupied and I took the knife and stabbed him in his thigh to leave him unable to follow me. But I had not counted on him being a warrior._  
_He screamed and I was able to throw him off, but he took chase and came after me. Before I had managed to jump out of the window, he grabbed me and threw me against the next wall. When he tried to pull me up by my hairs I managed to kick him and at last I escaped, just being able to grab the set of clothes that I had laid next to the window on a chair. I could hear Fiondil pounding against the door and I was terrified. But somehow I managed to jump out of the window._

_Up to this day I cannot really remember the details of my escape and everything is a blur. I remember how I felt and the panic still suffocates me sometimes at night, but I cannot remember what I did exactly, or how long we fought._

_This is the first time that I have told someone of this, or even written about it. I wanted you to know what really happened, for when we met, you and all the others helped me immediately and all you got in turn were lies._  
_It is very important for me, that you understand how this happened. When I told you that they had forced me and touched me, I meant that I had been forced into a marriage and that Magron had groped me. I noticed that you drew the wrong conclusions, but all I wanted was to get away and those lies ensured that. Please forgive me._

_Brother, if I still may call you that, in your camp, around your brother's and friends I saw for the first time what a real family meant, what it meant to feel secure. Thank you for that and for your help._

_In an act of violence I gained my freedom but in an act of compassion and kindness you taught me what to do with it. Maybe this deed of yours had the greatest impact on my life. Before then I wanted to flee to the Grey Havens and sail with a ship to the Undying Lands, to save myself. But your selflessness woke my conscience and after some weeks, I wanted to save Elrond and Glorfindel, whom I had seen dying in my dreams. You made me change for the better, I hope you realise that. You kindled in me the wish to live._

_And I lived, almost 188 years I lived. I had dreamt that tragedy would strike when the lords Glorfindel and Elrond were wed and I wanted to wait until that happened before I told them everything I knew._

_Alas! I should have known that my lord would never have left his wife ... I could have saved her, could have saved Dírhael._  
_After that I didn't dare to say anything for fear of my lord's wrath, instead I planned to simply avert calamity. I dreamed and planned until one day I realised that I was the catalyst; that my uncle would get himself the humans from Angmar as allies, attack Imladris and kill my lord's family just to recapture me._

_Now I had to decide to either leave this shores or stay and see to Brandon's demise and probably get myself killed in the endeavour._  
_But I cannot let him and my cousins go unpunished._

_And so this will be my last ruse:_  
_Elrond will visit Greenwood when prince Legolas celebrates his first millennia. On the way back to Imladris his convoy will be attacked and killed and Imladris will be erased. Before this happens I will use our enemies against our enemies before finally I'll betake myself into the hands of my family, an encounter I will not survive._

_When you read this letter that will have already happened. Search for me, brother. You will find my corpse buried near the outpost where most of my relatives, most of Brandon's relatives are stationed. My cousin will have marked the grave with a white stone. This will convict them._  
-l-

Lindir stopped reading. He had to search for Galadriel immediately: Erestor had erred; he had erred with the date. Legolas would celebrate his one thousandth birthday in six years ... it was happening too early.

Elrond's journey to Greenwood had been something of a surprise; Thranduil had invited him all of a sudden and Elrond had accepted ... persuaded by ... Faelon.  
Shell-shocked Lindir looked up into nothingness. 'Faelon. He must be the traitor!'  
The former senior advisor had come for a visit from the Grey Havens, seemingly calm and balanced, polite even towards Erestor. 'It would improve the fragile relation between Greenwood and Imladris' he had said and Elrond had relented.

Of course Erestor had not taken the chance of such a visit into account. Why should he, considering the strained relationship between the two realms? Now everything the chief advisor had tried to prevent had come to pass, meaning that there must be an army just outside the borders of the Hidden Valley, waiting for Vilya to reinforce it.

"Oh, Elbereth, help us!" he left his lord's chambers; in his anxiety not even managing to feel guilty for intruding into them in the first place; he nevertheless locked the doors carefully behind him. Turning the key Lindir did not notice the cloaked figure behind him and he did not turn around in time to prevent the blow.

Unconscious he sank into the arms of his assailant who scooped the white haired ellon up and silently left the family wing of the Last Homely House.

Smirking, Faelon silently thanked that Lóriën-witch, the captain's second and his former student for making his escape that easy: the halls and corridors of Rivendell were emptied and silent. No one would hinder his escape.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf


	14. Isn't Someone Missing?

**CHAPTER 14: Isn't Someone Missing?**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Galadriel was despairing. They had assembled all the inhabitants of Imladris and she had probed their minds, prodded and searched but none of them knew anything about those letters.

She stood upright in the Hall of Fire, Arwen and Melpomaen at her side, Haldir standing directly behind her along with the other Galadhrim.  
Telchar was currently leading a search for any intruder in the surrounding areas of Imladris.

Aside from that every Imladris' citizen stood in the hall, forming a colourful crowd: the few remaining soldiers that were currently in Imladris, Maids, scholars, servants, craftsman, lords and ladies, children and more.  
And they were more than displeased at the current situation and Galadriel's insolence.

It had been difficult to convince especially the elder advisors to pay her heed. Although she was their elder and a very powerful elleth, Lady of the Golden Wood and married to Celeborn the Wise, Lord of Lóriën, they were proud and she had, strictly speaking, not the right to order them around.  
But in the end they had listened to Arwen, who currently had the authority in the Last Homely House. Moreover Galadriel had threatened to tell Elrond that they had refused to aid her in finding a spy in Imladris who had broken in lord Erestor's chambers and stolen very important documents. After all, she was their lord's mother-in-law and Elrond held her in very high regards. Might it be a pack of lies, he would believe her nonetheless.

"Isn't there someone missing?" Arwen asked the crowd.

The Elves shook their heads. A minstrel looked around. "Lindir is missing."

Galadriel glanced around and knitted her brows. It was true, the chief minstrel was nowhere in sight.  
Haldir stepped nearer when she leaned her head to one side and silently murmured only for his ears "search for him."

The blond ellon immediately nodded and exited the room with two other guards, dressed in the colours of Lóriën.

"My lady Arwen, with all due respect" A noble raised his voice. "May we now come to know why we have to let the lady of the Golden Wood affront us with her notorious trespassing into other people's private thoughts, why we have to let our right of privacy be violated?"

The remaining Galadhrim growled at this insult, grabbing their long knives. Even the princess of Imladris directed an angry glare at the speaker, about to put him in his place when Galadriel spoke up

"Daro!" She ordered with a stealthy voice; she would not tolerate an open fight here. Looking at the noble with an unreadable expression the beautiful elleth raised a delicate eyebrow.

"I beg your forgiveness for my rash deeds. But when haste is required, and lives are at stake, one cannot always tread the paths of politeness and decorum. A spy is in Imladris and he has stolen documents that could save lives, if they are found soon enough."  
Galadriel straightened. She hoped that this would pacify them. She had no desire to unnecessarily make enemies here.

"We now know that they do not hail from Imladris for the culprit is not in this hall. Is anyone else missing or has anyone seen a stranger in the corridors these last hours?"

For some moments there was silence again as elves looked around into the faces of their family, friends, acquaintances. Then an ellon stepped forward, his expression serious.  
"My lady, lord Faelon is not here."

Arwen turned to Melpomaen. "That elf is in Imladris?"

The assistant cringed. How could he have forgotten that? The one ellon who had cause to dislike Erestor, who had always disliked his former superior. But would he do something like that? Would he help in the kidnapping of the chief advisor of Imladris?

Probably.

"He arrived some weeks ago."

Questioningly Galadriel looked to her grand-daughter and Melpomaen. "Who is that elf and why are you so upset, child?"

Leaning closer, Arwen whispered into the blond elleth's pointed ear. "Because he lost his post as senior advisor in the days after mother's capture, having accused Erestor of whoring his way up to the top. He has ever hated him!"

Her face becoming blank, Galadriel suddenly understood that they might have found the identity of the spy. Still if he wasn't the one they sought ... they should not waste all their forces on searching Faelon in case he was innocent or else they would lose the chance of finding the true culprit.

Addressing the crowd again she stood elegantly.  
"I would beg you to inform me, Arwen, Telchar or Melpomaen of anything or anyone that seems unfamiliar or strange, and if someone encounters lord Faelon please escort him to me.  
Thank you for your patience."

Galadriel granted herself some moments to consider her last actions while she watched as the majority of the assembled Elves left the Hall of Fire. Then she turned to Arwen.

"Take over, child, and let Melpomaen help you. I will try to contact your father and warn him."

* * *

Haldir stood in front of the large wooden door to Elrond's private chambers, where they had last seen the young minstrel. They were locked of course. The musician was conscientious and would have closed the door before leaving.  
One of Haldir's hands ghosted over the cold doorknob, almost feeling the pale elegant fingers that had last held them.

Lindir.

The musician was special. Not so much because of his eye-catching appearance, his striking beauty, but moreover because of his untouchable innocence and compassionate soul. That lovely song-bird had surely seen darkness before, maybe even cruelty. But it had not lead to that bitter-sweet sentiments that so many of their kind harboured in the face of a withering world.  
It was as if the younger ellon was stronger than that and maybe even wiser. 'Life means motion, motion means change and change is the condition of improvement' Galadriel had told him once and still the lady of the Golden Wood sought to halt the changes time brought upon them with the help of Nenya, creating the timeless Lothóriën. Lindir was more accepting towards those movements, but maybe this was the gift of youth that the minstrel still possessed.

His gaze wandered over the walls, the wooden floor, painstakingly slowly taking in every little detail. Whoever had stolen the letter would probably have returned thereafter to spy upon them once again, see if other sources would be found to unveil the identities of lord Erestor's assailants.

Something dark caught his attention and he kneeled down with grace, still keeping perfectly straight. His fingers closed around a small oval object of blue and silver. It looked like an oval blue stone that had been hollowed and cut in two identical pieces. Edged in a fine setting of mithril, shaped like a wine rank, the beautiful piece of jewellery formed a small hair clip to grace a single small braid.  
Haldir cocked his head, moving the clip around in the dim light. He frowned in amazement. There was a star of light on the blue stone's surface, moving along when he turned it. Never had he seen something alike but he had heard of those very precious gems.  
"A star sapphire."  
Whoever it belonged to must either be very rich or must have very important and rich friends. Not many could have afforded a masterpiece of jewellery like this.

Slowly he stood and stepped back, examining the stone floor. The tiles were smooth and clean though this must be one of the most crowded corridors in Imladris except for those near the main entrance. But even there not even dust particles let alone dirt could be found in the edges.  
This hair clip had not been there yesterday when the maidens had cleaned up, that was for sure.

Crouching back down, his fingers slid over the joints. They were deep; too deep for the gem. If it had not been thrown or lost in a fight or run ... if someone had lost it while walking or standing or even ... jogging along the corridor, it would have rolled three or four metres at most.

Still this didn't mean that something had happened to the white haired minstrel; he did not even know if the star sapphire belonged to Lindir; surely he had not enough gold to afford the price?  
But thinking about it, he had seen the minstrel wear a hair clip on the single small braid holding back his white hair although he had not been close enough to really see it. And Lindir certainly had friends who could afford the price, namely Erestor.

If anyone had found out enough about the advisor to guess the missing pieces of the puzzle, then it was surely his best and closest friend Lindir. Then the culprit would have had no choice but to attack the minstrel, probably when he had locked the door to Elrond's chambers, causing him to lose the hair clip.

"Haldir?" One of the two guards accompanying him asked.

Without a word, Haldir gave the gem to the one standing beside him. His gaze swept along the corridors, contemplating the whereabouts of the minstrel.

"So he has been kidnapped, possibly killed?"  
"Yes, Rúmil."

"Every citizen was in the hall, the other corridors deserted. He must have taken Lindir outside, knowing that lady Galadriel is going to spread her sphere of influence. Maybe the minstrel knows too much."

"Thank you for enlightening me, Orophin." Haldir murmured sarcastically, not even turning to the two silver haired ellyn standing behind him.

"No problem, brother. Can it be that you like that white haired beauty? You are not normally that ... grumpy."

Haldir's dark gaze lasted on his brother for some moments, his bearing speaking of restrained anger and outrage. "He is one of our kin and he is in danger."

Rúmil, ever the pacifier between the three brothers immediately interfered. "You are right, of course, Haldir. We should search for him now. Come on."  
With that the silver haired ellon swiftly went down the corridor where a smaller door lead to the beautiful gardens of Imladris and beyond that the woods and mountains surrounding the Hidden Valley.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

elleth ~ female elf  
ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves  
daro ~ stop


	15. The Raven Again

**CHAPTER 15: The Raven Again**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

"Stop that, El! You're making me nervous."  
Elrohír immediately hid his hands in his sleeves. Over the last half hour he had touched his waistcoat where the envelope with Erestor's letter was carefully hidden.

"Do you believe him?"

Elladan looked to his brother, sharply. Elrohír's question had a deeper importance than the younger twin wanted him to know, but he could not fool him, never had been able to.

"He wouldn't be the first seer."

Elrohír rolled his eyes. "Grand-mother and ada. Yeah, Erestor fits in there quite fabulously!"

Elladan watched his brother. Something troubled him in a way he had never seen before. Elrohír was nearly crying, his eyes shone with unshed tears. He wished he knew what exactly Erestor had written into his twin's letter, but he could imagine; probably something similar to the content of his letter. And it had shocked him, too. But somehow he knew it to be true.

"Don't be sarcastic, brother. If it is true, Erestor sacrificed himself for us."

"But if it is wrong, he stole Vilya."

"If it were wrong, he would not have written me what he did. Nor would he have given you such a message. For I believe we know what there is in each other's letter, Elrohír."

The younger twin swallowed and looked away. Never once daring to glance over to where his brother was sitting. Elladan was right, he had a very good idea of what Erestor had written his twin.

They were still resting to grant the peredhil and the soldiers who had accompanied them some time to recover. They had walked the whole night long, not to mention Tauron who had not slept in days in his chase after the chief counsellor.  
Elrond was silent and slept most of the time as he was still overcoming the last effects of the poison in his system. Though his fast healing showed his elven heritage he still felt weak and the wound on his upper arm was far from having closed.

They were also resting to give Glorfindel the chance to find out who had poisoned the two humans. But the ones who had provided the meals and the drink claimed to know of nothing. He had then ordered everyone to stand back from their saddle bags and was now searching them.

* * *

Glorfindel rummaged through what felt like the 500th saddle pack, his patience wearing thin. His soldiers had complied without so much as a nagging for they respected him beyond anything. He was their leader and if he deemed it necessary to search their personal things, they would indulge him.  
The soldier who the horse belonged to stood behind him, nervously shifting from one foot to another.

Glorfindel looked back, feeling the soldier's unease. It was a young guard, ambitious, boisterous and self-confident to the extent of narcissism. But the blond ellon was a good warrior and reliable in battle. Not someone who he would normally think capable of treason. But his behaviour was indeed ominous.

Carefully he searched the saddle bags, but there was nothing. He knitted his brow. Brooding he looked on the snowy path, his gaze sweeping over the rocks framing the path on the mountainside and his eyes narrowed.

Strange. The snow had been moved and then smoothed down but one could easily detect the differences in the surface. He approached the little drift and looked back. The soldier had frozen and more guards were curiously crowding around them.

"You will stay there." He addressed the young soldier. Then he proceeded and gently pushed the snow aside, layer by layer. Soon his hands encountered something hard in the frozen, powdery snow. He pulled forth a little flask.  
Glorfindel felt the anger rising in his chest and he tried to fight it down, not quite succeeding. Then he slowly turned.

"You are arrested for the murder of two prisoners and the suspicion of treason." The captain's voice was full of disgust and rage but his face was dangerously void of emotions.

The young guard shook his head in denial, his large eyes full of fear.

"Don't you have to say anything for your defence? Nothing?" Glorfindel spat out.  
"Why did you do this? Who gave you those orders?"

"I … no … that is not my flask. It's not mine."  
He desperately tried to reason. When he saw that his captain would not believe him, he looked to his comrades. "You know me! I am no killer! Please …" He begged.

But two soldiers approached him and grabbed his arms not too nicely.

"You are convicted! Your own conscience-stricken bearings gave you away!"  
Then Glorfindel went to the young ellon, taking on a more gentle, but disappointed expression. Directly looking into the soldier's blue-grey eyes, he searched for the truth there.

"What is done, is done. I will not judge you for it. That is lord Elrond's heavy and unthankful duty. You have murdered two Secondborn and for that crime you will have to be punished. But you can still safe lives if you but tell us, what happened.  
I am certain that you are not the originator of this treachery. Who gave you the orders to kill the surviving humans?"

The young guard just looked at him … and said nothing. Glorfindel observed the other blonde's handsome face and instantly knew that this one would stay silent, no matter what.

He assigned him two guards and then waited for Elrond to wake. The peredhel would probably want to question the culprit although he did not believe that Elrond would succeed. In the meantime Glorfindel went back to the twins who seemed unable to sleep, deeply troubled by whatever news they had taken from Erestor's letters. The captain was still somewhat suspicious of their refusal to share those news but he would not force them either.  
He smiled slightly as he came to stand in front of them. "Can you not sleep?"

Elrohír did not meet his eyes, but his older brother shook his head slowly.

"You have found the murderer it seems?"

Glorfindel looked back to where the blond guard was now being watched by his men and nodded. "He does not want to speak. He still denies it, but I know he did it. He buried the flask with the poison behind his horse in the snow."

"May I see it?" Elrohír asked and held out one hand. Glorfindel gave him the little crystal flask with the slightly opaque liquid. "That is really a large amount and little is missing, indicating the high potency. Just how many did he intend to kill?"

"As many as necessary, I'd say." Glorfindel answered with a grim expression and looked out into the valley. He wondered how an Elf could do something like that. But then again, even Elves were not above treachery, murder and other crimes. Their own sad history bore witness to that.

Suddenly he froze. "Boys, tell me what you see there." He pointed towards the eastern sky.

But before the twins could answer, one of the soldiers nearby who had heard the conversation gasped. "A crow … no, larger! It carries a leather bag … that must be lord Erestor's raven again!"

It was true, the black bird was soaring towards them, a dark leather pouch in its claws. Slowly other soldiers saw it, too. They alerted those standing near and within minutes the whole camp watched as the black bird flew directly towards the still sleeping lord of Imladris. It fluttered and landed only a meter away from Elrond. A soldier, wanting to guard his lord's sleep, put his hand in the way of the large common raven and tried to take the pouch.

Quickly the raven reacted, pecking at the offending hand and the soldier drew back, hissing, and cradled his hurt limb near.

While Glorfindel and the twins were making their way towards Elrond past the other soldiers, Elrond awoke from the commotion around him. He blinked, seeing a black blur in front of him and as his eyes cleared, making out feathers and a large beak directly in front of his face, he sat up.

The raven stalked nearer, looking at him out of its large black eyes, its head cocked to one side as if to make the Elven lord aware of its impatience.

"Elrond!" Glorfindel called as he arrived at his lover's side. "That is Erestor's bird!"

Elrohír confirmed that suspicion "Yes, that is the raven that carried the two messages Erestor send us while we were in that cave."

"I know!" The lord irritably murmured. He wasn't dumb after all.

"Careful, my lord, that bird is aggressive!" The guard hissed again and tried to grab the common raven, earning himself just another peck.

Elrond looked at the soldier with a sober expression. "Stop harassing that raven. They are very intelligent. Glorfindel, please retrieve that pouch now, will you? My arm is still kind of useless."

Glorfindel sighed. He knew that Elrond hated to be woken early and lack of sleep always got his dark peredhel in that mood.  
The blond captain nodded and slowly approached the bird. With slow motion he tried to get the small leather bag. But as his fingers nearly touched it, the dark beak came down onto his hand, leaving a small bleeding wound. Quickly, Glorfindel pulled back.  
"Ouch! That beast!"

Once again the bird hopped towards Elrond.  
The blond growled.  
"If I am not mistaken it seems to have set his mind on you retrieving that bag, Elrond. I don't want to hurt or kill it, if that can be averted." His Mirkwood plague would never forgive him.

Elrond grimaced as he started to move his injured arm, but the raven allowed him to untie the leather pouch. He frowned at the low weight and the feeling of it: it seemed to be empty, but then his fingers encountered something hard and frowning slightly he opened it.  
He swallowed and stared at Glorfindel. For some moments Elrond seemed as if he wanted to say something but he only opened and closed his mouth a few times.

"What?" Glorfindel asked a little bit impatient.

Without words, Elrond pulled out a small ring. Golden it was, with a single sapphire – Vilya.  
A shocked silence, almost palpable, spread between the assembled elves.  
Elladan looked towards Elrohír, his expression saying 'see? He has not stolen it'. But the younger twin ignored him.

Elrond knew that this confirmed the content of Erestor's letters. Obviously this was not a trick to get Vilya, or to kill him.

"We have to get home to see what is in Lindir's letter."

That brought the arrested guard back into Glorfindel's mind and he cleared his throat. "That might be unnecessary, Elrond. We have found the murderer of those poor humans. But he does not want to talk."

Elrond nodded grimly. He slid Vilya onto his finger and felt its power fill him. Taking a deep breath he smiled. It felt good to know it safe again, the mightiest of the three elven rings. And it definitely felt good to feel its power.

"Bring him here, but do not tell him that I have Vilya. He will probably try to lie to us and that might prove to be more informative than his silence." Glorfindel went off to bring the blond ellon to Elrond. He felt responsible for his deeds, and indeed he was in front of his lord, in front of the one above him in station. He would handle everything else internally, taking the blame before his superior.  
Approaching his soldier he gestured for him to stand. "Lord Elrond will interrogate you now, come with me."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhel ~ half elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
ellon ~ male elf


	16. The Ringbearers

**CHAPTER 16: The Ringbearers**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Galadriel sighed frustrated. She had secluded herself into a deserted corner of Imladris' beautiful gardens *for hours*. She could not find her son-in-law although she constantly searched for the mental power that was Elrond; his own strong fae used to shine brightly with Vilya's power.  
Normally she would find him within minutes when – like now – she had an idea of his whereabouts. The peredhel must be one or two days away from the top of the High Pass and on his way to Imladris.  
But either Elrond was not, or he was in no condition to react to her searching mind, or – and maybe the worst possibility – he did not have Vilya anymore. A most troubling thought indeed.

She desperately hoped that Elrond was alright.

The lady of the Golden Wood leaned back against the willow under which she sat. She usually loved how willows comforted with their shielding curtain of twigs, but in Imladris, she found no peace.

The last time, she had been here she had to bid her beloved daughter farewell. And now, wherever she went she could feel Celebrían's gentle presence.  
If she could only concentrate, she was sure she would be able to find Elrond.

_****Galadriel? ****_  
The lady of the Golden Wood sighed with relief. The peredhel lived.

_****Elrond? I was searching for you. ****_  
A short silence followed that statement.

_****I did not bear Vilya for some hours. But that is a very long story. ****_

_**** Listen, Elrond! You have to turn back! Ride to Mirkwood. ****_

When Galadriel perceived Elrond's voice next, it had taken a slightly urgent tone.

_**** Do you have any news of my chief counsellor? ****_

_**** He is a seer, mightier than you, even mightier than I. ****_

_**** I know ****_Elrond intercepted.

Galadriel hesitated. What had already happened? And what was yet to come?  
_**** What has he done yet? ****_

_**** I don't know for sure. I was ambushed on the High Pass by Hillmen from Angmar. Erestor caused Glorfindel to come to my rescue by giving him false facts but he left Glorfindel two days away from where I was in a cave with my sons and a few soldiers. He used Vilya to cause an avalanche that killed most of our besiegers. Then he simply vanished. No one knows where he is.  
But that is not all: we have had human captives but one of our soldiers killed them. This is some kind of conspiracy and I don't know Erestor's part of it, if he has part in it at all. Glorfindel arrested the murderer, he is bringing him to me while we speak but I don't think that he will talk. ****_

_****Send him to me. ****_

_****Lóriën? That is too far away. We have opened farewell letters that Erestor wrote and he foresaw his death. He will die! ****_

_****No, he will not. And no, I am not in Lóriën, I am in Imladris. When I saw Erestor's death in my mirror, I tried to find you, but you were in Mirkwood then. So I journeyed to Imladris to prevent it all. But I came too late.  
Send this murderer to me to interrogate.  
You should know that Erestor wrote in the farewell letter to Lindir that his family was behind it. But he gave no names.  
Ride to Mirkwood, you can still save him. I will contact you, the moment I know more. ****_

_****But we think that he is pursued by human soldiers. He is weary and without supplies. He is fading, Galadriel. Erestor is in no condition to outrun them. And I feel that Imladris is in danger.  
I need your advice. I cannot put Erestor's safety before that of Imladris. ****_

_****I have Nenya with me, so do not worry for your valley. It is safe with me. ****_

_****How did Erestor die in your dream Galadriel? What am I to prevent? ****_

_****Maybe the future has already changed again and without my mirror ... Still I dreamt of him dying in Mirkwood, Elrond: a long Mirkwood knife will end his life. ****_

For a short moment there was silence.

_****I don't want to lose him. ****_

_****Then don't. ****_

Galadriel broke the connection. Elrond's last sentence had surprised her. It was not so much that he cared for his chief advisor – Galadriel would have been highly disappointed in her son-in-law if he didn't and Elrond was known as a compassionate Elf – it was how he had said it: with a kind of shocked realisation.

Could it be that Elrond liked Erestor more than he should? Or exactly how he should?

Well, on her list of problems, that had about priority 50. First she had to find Thalion's letter. Then the traitor in Imladris, and Faelon. Haldir had not informed her yet about Lindir's whereabouts. She had to make sure that no evil had crossed Imladris borders and would not cross them either.

How Erestor could have let Imladris' defences get to that point in the first place, was beyond her understanding.

_****Husband ****_

_****I wondered when you would contact me. ****_

_****I needed to hear your voice.****_

_****But my lady does not want to chatter. What troubles you that has not troubled you when you left? ****_

_****Memories and questions.  
Celeborn I fear that I left too late or too early. Once again I am meddling. What if it happens again? What if I make it worse?  
Erestor is still out there and his scheming still in realization. What he planned for centuries might be too complex, too frail. What should have ended with his death only, might as well lead to the death of others if I act in the wrong way.  
And all around me there is the memory of sweet Celebrían. I feel like suffocating …  
And I needed to hear your voice. ****_

Galadriel could almost feel Celeborn's sad smile. Oh he knew her well.  
_****I know what you need to hear. And be assured, love, whatever will come of this: you will be able to change exactly what you are meant to change. Eru's plans will be fulfilled. Do what you can, it will be enough, it always was.  
No blame lies with you, Galadriel! Remember that.  
Now rest some and let Celebrían's presence comfort you, not burden you. She would not have wanted that. We will see her again, love. Just have patience like you used to have.****_

Galadriel smiled, a small tear escaping one ice blue eye. _****Thank you. You know I love you.****_

_****Less then I love you.****_

Fair laughter filled Imladris' garden. _****That is not possible dearest.****_  
But quickly Galadriel sobered _****I will have to stay for a while. ****_

_****I know. Stay as long as you need to, but remember that you are sorely missed here, my lady of the Golden Wood.****_

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

fae ~ spirit


	17. Parting Ways

**CHAPTER 17: Parting Ways**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Elrond watched the young ellon in front of him, strangely concerned by what he saw. The blond stood tall and straight in front of him, smiling a small, haughty and secretive smile. Sovereign, almost superior; not like a caught murderer at all.  
Carefully observing the soldier he spoke up, calm and serious.

"I know that Erestor's family orchestrated this whole disaster ... and I know that they charged you with covering up Erestor's tracks."

Elrond was so full of rage. This abomination of an elf did not even try to *act* rueful. But he was careful to not let his feelings be known.

"Now I want to know where Erestor is.  
If you tell me, I will give you safe conduct to Mithlond and from there to Aman. It is the only path that you can tread upon for no elven realm will grant you refuge anymore and without this help you will either construct your own ship and try to sail the stormy seas alone without an idea of nautics, which would certainly lead to your death, or die here in Middle Earth; an outcast."

The blond soldier only shook his head conceitedly.

Grimly Elrond countered the smug half-smile. "Then I have no choice but to send you to Imladris where Galadriel can interrogate you properly."

A wave of shock like a gust of wind went through the assembled elves. Glorfindel's eyes met those of his lover, silently asking if what he said was true. The twins exchanged surprised glances. After all this was the first time their grand-mother was in Imladris since their mother had sailed. Why would the lady of the Golden Wood have left her Lóriën?

The prisoner observed those reactions nervously at first, then with growing derisive relief. The Half-Elf was bluffing. The thought showed on his young face, taking shape in a hard, sneering smirk.

Elrond leaned forward, bringing his face close to that of the murderer. His eyes only a handbreadth apart from the cold ice blue ones, he let the soldier see the truth in his solemn grey orbs.  
"I farspoke with her only minutes ago. Erestor left letters explaining everything. But one is missing; one that contains the names of the culprits. She will wait in Imladris until I return with my chief advisor and I will send you to her while travelling to Greenwood. You see: I won't even lose time if you don't cooperate. I will let her interrogate you and she will have the answers before I even enter Greenwood. You may as well answer and spare yourself some grief."

Elrond saw the jaw of his opponent clenching but still his face stayed calm. He had won, he could see defeat in the blue of the other's eyes. But then he frowned; something else was there. This defeat was pretended. This devil still had an ace up his sleeve and never would he talk.

Elrond's gaze locked on his lover.  
"I want *you* to get him to Imladris, safe and sound so that your cousin may interrogate him."

Vigorously Glorfindel shook his head, sending his blond braids swaying. "Elrond with all due respect, that's not going to happen. I vowed to protect you and I am going to do just that. I will accompany you!"

Elrond motioned for the soldiers to lead the murderer away before he turned to Glorfindel again.  
"Galadriel saw Erestor die and hurried towards Imladris in hope to catch him there and prevent it. Now she is in Imladris on her own with neither me, you nor Erestor there. This is just not sustainable."

The captain crossed his arms defiantly. "I *will* accompany you!"

"Oh well then … come along if you must, but we should send the rest to Imladris to assist Galadriel. She has to search a traitor there who stole the one letter that contains the names of Erestor's family members."

"That is another point: Do you really think Erestor's family could have persuaded 200 humans from Angmar to attack you and not kill Erestor?"

"I don't know how they did it, but I am almost sure that they did. The problem is that there is a thief in Imladris who stole the one letter that contained the important names and facts."

Elrond paused, his head cocked to one side. Slowly he turned to where the murderer *they* had caught in their midst was guarded by his soldiers. The young ellon met his thoughtful gaze.  
Blond. That was a rare hair colour in Imladris.

Meanwhile another blond ellon tried to get his attention: his lover's hand gently touched his shoulder, causing his head to turn his way. "A thief in Imladris, and Galadriel has not noticed? He will have destroyed the letter by now!"

"Glorfindel, that blond, the murderer, can it be that he hails from Mirkwood? Can it be that he is somehow related to Erestor? Or just hired by someone of his family? I mean: Will he not talk because he doesn't want to or because he doesn't know the answers and only did it for ... gold or ... something?"

The captain narrowed his eyes. He tried to remember the warrior's origins, but he could not. There were just so many guards who had trained under him, fought under his command. He could not remember all their histories although he tried to at least know the names of every one.

"Related to our chief advisor? Could be true; hopefully it is. Galadriel could learn from him important facts. If not ... I fear Erestor will be lost to us."  
Glorfindel sighed.  
"I am sorry, Elrond. I should have noticed …"

Elrond immediately intercepted, giving Glorfindel a loving smile. "And how? It is not that he behaved conspicuously in any way! He only acted when Erestor's disappearance needed to be covered. No one could have known: it is not that people from Mirkwood are unwelcome in Imladris and there are others who joined our ranks, although few."

Glorfindel nodded. "Do you trust your advisors enough to leave them alone with Imladris?"

"I only now recognize that Erestor trained them the last dozens of decades to be able to manage just this situation. With Galadriel in Imladris … yes I do."

"Good, then let us head for Mirkwood."

Elrond nodded before he turned to his sons. "Elladan, Elrohír ..."

But before their father had the chance to send them home, Elladan interfered. "El and I would like to follow Erestor's tracks. Maybe he is not yet in the power of his human or elven persecutors and we could reach him in time."

Elrond looked at them, torn between the wishes to know Erestor safe and to know his sons safe. He knew that Elladan and Elrohír were marvellous warriors and the best trackers in Imladris; but this was more dangerous than their usual Orc-hunts. They dealt with ruthless cold murderers, elves who had knowingly and purposely gambled with the lives of dozens of their kin just to kidnap Erestor.

Elrohír, ever the more sensitive of his sons, quickly caught up on his fears. "We will be extremely cautious and not seek to pick a fight. I promise that we will not even attack if we find ourselves heavily outnumbered. Give us Erestor's bird, when we find Erestor already caught, we will contact you and inform you of his whereabouts."

Sighing in defeat, Elrond hesitantly nodded. "Under this conditions, yes, you may follow him."

* * *

And so the party separated that evening: the main part made their way to Imladris as reinforcement and to bring the blond murderer to Galadriel while Elrond rode with Glorfindel and twenty of his men to Mirkwood, trusting his mother-in-law to get the information that could save Erestor's life. Elladan and Elrohír meanwhile went to track down the lost chief advisor of Imladris.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf


	18. The Stormcrow

**CHAPTER 18: The Stormcrow**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Elrohír and Elladan had left their horses behind to travel to Mirkwood with their father. They doubted that they would have been able to get the horses past the avalanche; moreover Erestor was on his way by foot and to escape his pursuers he would probably return to climbing. Then at the latest they would have to leave behind their mounts.  
The only company they had came from the large common raven that Erestor had trained. It sat on Elladan's shoulder, clawing its talons into the soft flesh and complaining loudly whenever the elder twin tried to shoo it away or stumbled. He had long since given up and let it rest. Maybe they would need it soon to fly a long way anyway, better if the raven was well rested.

* * *

The twins reached the avalanche late that evening, the sun already setting in the west behind them. And for the first time they could see the devastation that Erestor had caused, bathed in the orange light of the retreating sun. Over a length of nearly 300 meters snow masses covered the path. Below they had raced down into the valley for more than one and a half miles. It had swept away and destroyed everything in its path.

Elrohír turned to his brother "Just how mighty is Erestor? He never used Vilya before and has done something not even ada could have achieved! I mean, he is so very young and …"

Elladan shook his head "I don't know, Elrohír. I don't know. Let us look at the other side. We have been neglecting it yesterday night."

Carefully they passed the snow covered part and the cave that had been their prison for one day. 'One day' Elladan thought, 'it seemed like an eternity, and an eternity ago'. Both twins tried not to comment on what had passed only the past night especially not on their argument.  
They passed the snow covered corpses of the seven humans that had found their death here and Elrohír noticed how Elladan did his best to ignore them. It made his jaw clench.

Elladan passed the provisory graves and went on, Elrohír following him, and together they searched the path east of the snow masses that the avalanche had left.

"There are footprints of at least twenty humans. Obviously Erestor concentrated on covering the western part, leaving us the escape route. I wonder if he was unable or unwilling to kill them. "

"Well, following them will be easy enough. Luckily none of them has a horse, Erestor can easily escape on the snow."

But Elladan was not that optimistic "You forget that he has not slept for days and that he must be running short of supplies. No Elrohír, as much as I wished it to be different, Erestor's escape chances are less than low. But hopefully he will continue to fool them regarding his identity and they will let him live.  
And let us not forget his relatives who must be out there somewhere searching for him, too."

"I don't know, brother. Up to now we have been underestimating Erestor. What if we are doing so now? Maybe he wanted those humans to escape and to follow him. Maybe he is planning on getting them into a skirmish with his relatives and getting rid of them all this way."

Elladan shook his head, one finger absent-mindedly stroking the neck of the black bird on his shoulder. "His plans included his death."

* * *

Darkness had already descended onto the mountains but the snow reflected the starlight and enabled the twins to follow the chief advisor further along the Pass.

They tracked the humans only for a few miles when the traces changed direction. Erestor had left the path and his chasers had followed. Now they were climbing into the heavily jagged regions of the mountain where the snow made the rocks slick and slippery. Difficult for an Elf, a pure nightmare for a human.

"We should probably rest now, brother." Elladan said. "Once we start climbing, it will be difficult to find a place to rest."

Elrohír nodded. He didn't want to admit it, but he needed the rest, too. They had not slept the last night and only a few hours the previous nights and he was exhausted. Elladan was ever the one with the greater endurance, Elrohír thought. He was a survivor.  
Erestor was wrong, Elladan was a survivor and he would survive no matter what.

Then both of them began to clear a small part of the path as well as they could from the snow. It was mostly frozen and would injure their unprotected hands or wet their gloves, so they laid their sleeping mats one on top of the other next to the rocky sides of the path. The twins sat on the mats and drew their knees close, covering themselves with blankets; though the cold didn't bother them much, it was the wind they searched to escape. Gently they sat the common raven down between them, where it soon rested his head between its ruffled feathers.

* * *

After a few hours of light sleep they decamped and started their pursuit again. They hoped that the humans and Erestor had rested, too, or they would now be one and a half day behind them.  
But the path that the humans had climbed upon was a difficult one and the footprints showed that they had slipped more than once. The twins were confident to reduce the head start but they were also concerned: they were now heading towards the more rutted upper parts of the mountains and they knew that Orcs often loitered in these areas.

And with each passing hour Erestor's chances of survival grew worse. They had to be fast now.

Elrohír climbed after his brother, always looking around, keeping his mind off the burning muscles in his arms and legs. How he hated those barren rocks void of live, covered with ice and snow.  
They were now climbing north-west as Erestor had obviously changed direction … again, and so Mirkwood laid now behind them, the large forest spreading behind the Great River.

The younger twin sighed. That insane chief advisor of his father was heading directly for Goblin Town.

"Elladan … there!" Elrohír pointed towards the eastern horizon where a black figure stood apart from the blue-white sky.  
Elladan turned and gazed towards the direction his brother pointed at. The figure seemed to quickly come nearer and more and more it assumed shape.

"An eagle, brother! One of the great eagles!" Elrohír called out.

"He will probably see us. Maybe we can get news of our prey." Elladan answered.

Sharply the younger twin gazed towards his brother, his mouth a thin line of disapproval. "I don't like it, when you talk like that."

Their eyes met for a second before Elladan directed his gaze back to the eagle. "I know … Elrohír I …"  
But his voice subsided. He didn't really know what to say; or maybe what but not how.

"Don't brother. Not now." Elrohír answered with a biting edge to his otherwise fair voice.

They climbed upon a ledge so the eagle could easily spot them and patiently waited. Somehow it felt awkward to stand next to each other. A feeling Elladan was not accustomed to. Ever since he could remember Elrohír had been his closest friend, the one who was always at his side.  
Now after knowing what was to come, it felt like standing next to a stranger. It hurt.

So they both directed their attention towards the huge bird that came nearer at an astounding velocity. Soon they could make out a human shaped figure sitting on the eagle's shoulders, legs hooked under the wings and the torso pressed tightly to the neck. Elrohír narrowed his eyes.

"Thank the Valar! Elladan it is Gandalf!"  
A smile spread on the elder twin's face: they could truly need Gandalf's help.

It didn't take long for the pair to spot the twins and the grey wizard bade the large eagle to land. Gracefully it glided down towards the cliff and spread its wings in order to check its landing. Still Elladan and Elrohír were nearly thrown against the rocks behind them by the wind that the eagle caused with his beating wings.

"Greetings, Sons of Elrond! What are you doing here so far away from the High Pass?" The lord of the eagles asked, for it was indeed him that had brought Gandalf to the Misty Mountains on some unknown errant.

"You haven't gone astray now, have you?" Gandalf added with a smile that was partly obscured by his grey, long beard, but the sharp eyes sparkled. For a moment they rested on the large common raven, asking himself where he had seen it before and why it was accompanying the princes of Imladris.

Elladan smiled back. "I would be disgruntled, my dear Gandalf, if I wasn't that glad to see you! And greetings to you also, Gwaihir, lord of eagles."  
The twins bowed respectfully in front of the old and somewhat mystique beings in front of them: the great eagles were sometimes acting as scouts of Manwë himself and the Lord of the Valar had ordered them to interfere in favour of the First- and Secondborn who dwelled in Middle Earth in times of need; And more than once they had done so, often making the difference between victory and defeat.  
Gandalf on the other side was – as plain and unremarkable as he looked with his grey gown, large hat and beard – a Maia, wise and mighty.

Elrohír took over "We have not gone astray, we are looking for our chief advisor."

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows rose nearly up to his large hat. "Is that so? And why should he have left his home?"

"He is fleeing north-west from some twenty soldiers from Angmar, but that's a long story. He is …"

"Angmar?" Gandalf gasped. Quickly he glanced over to his eagle companion who had cocked his head and was carefully eying the two Elves.

The twins nodded hesitantly. Normally Gandalf was not easy to astonish but that little fact seemed to have done the deed.

"And do you know why?"

Elladan looked to his brother. "Not exactly ... but either because they think him to be ada and want to get their hands on *Vilya* … or because he is a seer mightier than even our grandmother and they want to get their hands on*him*."  
Elladan bit his upper lip to stop himself from grinning. That whole situation was just too grotesque and the wizard's expression just too comically.

Elrohír rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wished his elder brother had a little bit more sense for diplomacy.  
"If you have half an hour to spare, we will tell you what happened, but if not: we need to find him. Unknowingly or knowingly he is heading for Goblin-Town.  
He saved our lives … lord Gwaihir, could you send an eagle to search him? I know it is not our place to ask, but Erestor … will die if we cannot reach him in time. And he has probably not slept or eaten for days, they will easily catch him!"

Gandalf sighed. "Tell us what happened."

Elladan recounted their besiegement in the small cave near to the High Pass' top, Erestor's scheming to free them, told them of the letters and the murderer; that they decided to search for the advisor while the others were to return to Imladris and his father and Glorfindel with a small party on their way to Mirkwood to search for Erestor on Galadriel's advise.

"… And now he is heading directly for Goblin Town, those humans probably close on his heels!"

Gwaihir's mimic was impossible to read, he sharpened his beak on the rocks, seemingly uninterested. But Gandalf seemed troubled.

"But what are you here for, Gandalf? You have never done something without a deeper purpose … except maybe for that awful pipe smoking.

Gandalf waved the comment away. "Gwaihir told me that a human army is gathering in the north of Imladris. I came to investigate and to warn your father."

The shock was apparent in the young elven faces. That were grave news indeed, it meant that those humans had wanted Vilya or a mighty seer to explicitly attack Imladris. The Hidden Valley and all her inhabitants were in danger. And the soldiers that they had sent back might come too late to protect the their home and with Elrond and Vilya now absent ... They could only hope that Galadriel would manage to keep Imladris safe on her own.

"When I felt a kind of magical bonfire on the High Pass, we came by to see what was going on here. That must have been Erestor causing the avalanche."

Gwaihir raised his head, now towering over the other three. "Olórin, we need to fly. The humans won't wait for us.  
But I will ask my brother Landroval to search for that elven seer."

"The two of you should return to Imladris and warn Galadriel, I will follow as soon as I can. But first I need to see for myself what those humans are up to." Gandalf said. "I do not want you to get any nearer to Goblin Town! Your father would surely kill me, if he knew that I let you proceed this way ... or your grandfather will jump off his ship and smash me with his body ..."

Elladan shook his head not so much in disagreement but in denial of the danger their beloved Imladris was in. His brother nodded a little bit shaken.  
"We will. But find Erestor, he … it is just that …" he shrugged helplessly.

Gwaihir looked back once. "Have faith, young one! My brother will not return to our nests until he found him."

Then Gwaihir bowed to help Gandalf mount. "Promise to not go Orc-hunting. Return home." Gandalf reminded them when he finally sat on the great eagle.

"Landroval will find him, he has sharp eyes." The lord of the eagle's assured the twins. Then he took off.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ada ~ father


	19. Gwenyn

**CHAPTER 19: Gwenyn**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

When the twins had left the High Pass during the previous night to chase Erestor and his pursuers they had mostly climbed north. As they did not want to make any further detours, they now climbed south-west towards Imladris.

Once again Elrohír followed his brother. They had to proceed slowly because they were climbing a very rutted area of the mountains. And they were climbing downwards which was of course more difficult and it slowed them down. Often they had to cross deep clefts or circumvent rocks too large and difficult to climb.

But slowly they made progresses; even for elves the twins were in good form and managed the journey much faster than others would have.  
Half a day they proceeded that way, never talking much, still in thought of the last days' events, this fateful journey and Erestor's role in it.

When that evening they encountered a rather large ledge they decided to make rest there. They could have gone on for another hour but it was unlikely that they would have found a suitable place to rest further down the mountainside, too steep and rocky was it.  
After a light meal they wrapped themselves in their blankets, leaning against the rocks behind them.

"Elladan ... about the letters."

The elder twin sighed. He did not want to talk about this now. For one moment Elladan thought about refusing to answer or telling his brother to sleep. But then again, he could not hide forever from this and so he pulled out the letter. Only one paper.  
He weighted it in his hand. It was light, thin, very good paper of a fine quality. Erestor would never have taken something less for such an important message. The words were so elegantly written; His father's chief advisor had always had such a fine writing: all soft curves and neat lines. Nothing ever betrayed his emotional state, never ever did it change.  
It was all such a hard and rather cruel contrast to the content.

"Erestor cautioned me, I don't know what to say. Always did I trust my instincts but they led me astray it seems." Elladan looked to his brother.

Erestor knew best, Elladan smiled to himself. He opened the letter and read it out aloud for his brother:

-l-_  
My lord,_

_This letter contains very important information that will spare you from much grief if you take them seriously. And you will only be able to do so when you have heard from Lindir about my past. Therefore I beg you to not continue reading before meeting with Lindir._

_Then I would advise you to read the following without company._  
_Elrohír is going to choose mankind._  
-l-

For a short moment Elladan looked to his brother. Elrohír sat opposite to him, staring at his mirror with tears in his eyes. The elder twin searched the eyes that looked like his own. Searched for something, for a proof; and he found it: guilt. Erestor was right, Elrohír would have chosen mankind, his younger brother would have deserted him.  
Concentrating on the parchment again he proceeded to read it to his counterpart.

-l-_  
Your hate for Orcs kindled an all consuming fire in your heart that changed you, that slowly kills your spirit and that of your brother. Elrohír chokes on the rancour that he feels flowing from your very being, he cannot endure it.  
But as he loves you more than anyone or anything else and is unconditionally loyal to you he will never try to change the way you are. He accepted your new character but he cannot live with it, nor can he live without you. Therefore he will choose mankind and death._

_Now carefully weigh the words with which you will address your brother with when you meet next; they will decide your future._  
_If you are willing to let go of your hatred, he will follow you into life but if you are not, Elrohír will die and you will follow him into death._

_I came to know you as an intelligent, bright ellon. I want you to remember who you are, and I want you to remember what they are: in every Orc there lies the tortured, corrupted soul of an Eldar. You, too, would have become like them had you lived through what they did._  
_Pity them, redeem them from their fate so that what Morgoth could not take from them may heal in Mandos; but don't let your hate kill you and your brother and destroy your father and sister._

_Erestor_  
-l-

Similarly tear-filled eyes met in the darkness, silver-grey mirrors of guilt and grief.

"I do not want to let that happen." Elladan whispered. A single sob broke the silence of the night around them, neither of the twins really able to say whom it belonged to.  
"Tell me, brother: have I already lost you? Is it too late to change direction and find the path into life again? Will you walk it with me and help me along?"

Suddenly Elrohír stood. He needed to be close to the twin he had missed so much, fear of losing him having eaten for so long at his very being. With two steps he was at his brother's side and let himself fall into the arms of his elder twin.  
Elladan felt so relieved. Valar, how he had hoped to do it right, to say the right words that would make him stay. He could feel their brotherly bond regaining more of its old strength, could feel the connection to Elrohír; gently he began to rock his younger brother back and forth, relishing the feel of him in his arms.

"Thank you. For giving me this chance!"

"If you are only willing, Elladan, I will give you every chance you need. We are immortal after all."

Elladan chortled in a strange mixture between sobbing and chuckling. They settled down next to each other, content to revel in the presence of the other. Soon first Elladan then Elrohír fell into a light sleep, trusting their instincts to wake them when need arose.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

gwenyn ~ twins  
ellon ~ male elf


	20. Two Things

**CHAPTER 20: Two Things…**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

The three Lóriën brothers moved stealthily and soundlessly through the moonlit woods. The undergrowth was not very dense in this parts of the forest, providing the Galadhrim with an inadequate cover, but their Lothóriën tunics protected the three silver haired elves from searching eyes, in contrast to the thief; they had the advantage over their prey whose tracks they had found a while ago.

In the soft forest ground his footprints were clearly visible and deep. Deeper than they should have been for an elf; he must have been carrying something heavy – Lindir.  
The thief and putative kidnapper was fleeing east towards the Misty Mountains. He had a head start of nearly four hours, but he was considerably slower than the Lothóriën warriors. Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin were quickly catching up; but they had already passed the Imladrian borders and more and more they were pressed for time.

Up to now they had only once happened upon soldiers from Imladris; a small patrol of five young warriors. Haldir had instructed them to give note to Telchar and Galadriel about the whereabouts of the thief and the direction they were heading.  
There were just too few warriors to sufficiently cover the lands surrounding the Last Homely House, the remaining valiant ellyn had to spread wide; a fact that gave the fleeing thief enough chances to elude them; a fact that the three brothers tried to make undone now, and it seemed that the luck or the Valar's grace were on their side.

Haldir raised one hand to indicate his brothers to be silent and halt in their steps. There had been a noise in the bushes not far away along their path.

Intently he listened into the forest. Narrowing his eyes as he tried to detect something, anything that could reveal that blasted elf's whereabouts.

And then there was it again: a burble and coughing, a clamour as if there was a scramble on the forest ground.

Without further thinking he drew his bow and quietly but swiftly sidled forward, his brothers mirroring his movements.

"Drink, little rat!"

Haldir's heart beat maddeningly fast in his chest. Faster, he had to go faster. 'Elbereth, oh please ...'

"Stop fidgeting, or I'll cut your throat!"

The twigs hit his face hard, but he cared not. If he was not quick enough ...

Suddenly they saw a flash of white amidst the green bushes of Imladris' forests, Lindir's white hair.  
"Let him go!" Haldir shouted, just as his brothers rushed past him to surround the minstrel and his captor but they were still some metres away from the brunet who held the sweet, young minstrel pinned down to the ground with his weight. They could not see what he had been doing but in this very moment it mattered not. He was a danger to be neutralized in whatever way.

Immediately the brunet jumped back, trying to get into the forest's undergrowth but Orophin was quicker. With unwavering accuracy his arrow found its way into the kidnapper's upper leg, effectively halting his retreat.  
The ellon cried out and fell to the ground, Rúmil and Orophin already running towards him, Haldir keeping his arrow directed at him and following his every movement. He would not allow this one to hurt anyone anymore: neither his brothers nor Lindir; he would rather shoot him first.  
Behind the brothers, Lindir got to his feet again, the raging emotions clearly written on his flushed face. The moment he had enough air to scream, he did. Forward he jumped, trying to get to the brunet devil that had tried to silence him, tried to let Erestor vanish behind a dark veil to never emerge again.

"Ulundo! Orchion! Beast of Melkor!"

The three Lóriën-elves turned surprised for only one moment, Haldir immediately catching the ranting Lindir into his arms, stopping him from lynching his kidnapper. The short lasting chaos was enough. Suddenly Haldir heard one of his brother shouting and out of the corner of his eyes he could see Rúmil running forward, tackling the kidnapper.  
Totally confused he felt Lindir growing rigid in his arms, just as he saw Rúmil rolling the unconscious blond ellon onto his back.

"What did just happen?" he turned to Orophin, who had crouched down next to his brother and the kidnapper.

Orophin turned only long enough to murmur an angered "Drank poison or something."

That seemed to wake the unmoving Lindir. With a low growl he shook Haldir's arms away and stepped nearer to his new epitome of an enemy. Shivering from anger he all but screamed at the unmoving ellon.

"Faelon did not take poison! That precursor of an Orc would never have the guts to take his own life! He probably took what he wanted to give me: water from the Enchanted River!"

Only thinking about his chances for a moment Lindir strode even nearer, trying to kick the now sleeping blond ellon into the stomach.

Immediately Haldir grabbed him and pulled him close again. "Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, Lindir! Calm down. Are you okay?"

The white haired minstrel grumbled and tried to get free for some moments, fighting against the restricting arms holding him back. "Let me go!"  
Only gradually he stilled, realising Haldir's physical superiority. "I am fine! Now let me go!"

"He did not hurt you?"

"Only some bruises. I am fine, I told you!"

"Good. Then two things ..."  
Slowly, Haldir turned the younger ellon around so that he was facing him. "Never attack an Eldar that does not threaten you. And never. Never ever attack an Eldar that is lying unconsciously on the ground!"  
He gave the slim shoulders a short shake to emphasize his point, staring into the fair eyes as if trying to see behind them. He had been shocked by the minstrel's violent reaction, having thought him unable to really hurt another being like that, especially a helpless being.

Embarrassed, Lindir dropped his head. "I know. I did not really want to hurt him, I guess ... well, not *badly* at least." He added as Haldir sceptically raised an eyebrow.  
"But he ... they ... Everything they did ... and will do ... that an Eldar would be able to do something like that ..."

Pacified for the moment, Haldir gave a curt nod before looking to the unconscious ellon. "Faelon, you said? You know him then?"

"He was a senior advisor to our lord Elrond before he had to resign because of severe misbehaviour towards Erestor."

"OK. Just promise to not do something like that again. You will regret it afterwards."  
Haldir waited for Lindir's shy nod before he proceeded.  
"The second thing: it seems that this traitorous being eluded an interrogation, so: did you find out more about Erestor and his family?"

Quickly Lindir's demeanour changed from a conscious-stricken bashfulness to a death-serious agitation full of urgency. His large eyes locked with the fair ones of Haldir.  
"I know their names, we have to hurry back to Imladris!"

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves  
Ulundo ~ monster  
Orchion ~ son of an Orc


	21. Found

**CHAPTER 21: Found**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
WARNING: From this chapter on there is going to be graphic violence or very detailed description of the effects.

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Soon first Elladan then Elrohír fell into a light sleep, trusting their instincts to wake them when need arose.

And need arose very soon in the early morning hours the following day. After what seemed like seconds of sleep to them Erestor's common raven started to flutter around them, pecking at their hands. While still waking up and trying to shoo the black bird away they felt strong wind in their faces, blowing back their hair. With a startle they looked up only to find a massive body coming to a halt in midair mere meters in front of them; a large greyish beak, strong wings that were cause of the wind and gigantic claws had come nearer with unexpected speed. A large great eagle had approached swiftly, probably in an audacious dive and fluttered with its wings to slow down its fall.

Immediately the twins stood, letting the warm blankets slip from their shoulders and protected their faces with their forearms against the wind. Then something registered with them. Elrohír noticed it first and he gasped: the claws were not empty. One had closed itself around the slender waist of a half-naked humanoid form.  
Obviously the bird had problems to land on the ledge with only one leg and Elladan saw with horror how the large talons pierced into the already battered body, trying to keep a hold on the unconscious being. The great eagle tried to raise his burden enough to keep him from hitting the ground, while landing on his other leg. Only barely managing to keep its balance and not hitting the wall the eagle did not quite accomplish its goal and the human shaped body was slammed against the rocky ground. It was all the overlarge bird could do to let go immediately and not put weight on the injured being.

"I am glad to have found you, Elladan and Elrohír Elrondyn! I am Landroval. I brought you the Firstborn, but he barely lives. I fear he would not have survived 'til the Hidden Valley."

Concerned both peredhil leaped towards the huddled frame on the ground, the great eagle forgotten for the moment. Carefully, Elrohír turned the small frame and looked to his brother in shock. It truly was Erestor though they had nearly not recognized him in the dark.  
Elladan's and Elrohír's eyes met for the briefest part of a second and understanding flashed between them. Erestor would very likely die. One short glance was enough to tell the cruel truth.

"You have done right to bring him here, he is dying."

Their father's chief advisor had deep gashes all over the body, along with bruises. His back had been covered in the bloody marks of a whip and dark purple bruises on his ribcage indicated that he had been kicked and beaten most severely. Probably at least one or two ribs were broken.  
An arrowhead was embedded deep in his shoulder. Whoever had done this had not bothered to pull it out but just broke off the shaft. The wound was inflamed, swollen and probably poisoned from the look of it.  
Most of his fingers were broken, along with his nose, the right shinbone and the left upper arm. Counting the ribs as one and the hands each as one, too, that made a total of six fractures. That in itself could cause a trauma able to kill a human, maybe a fading elf.

But it did not end there: burn marks covered his lean legs. They looked as if someone had pressed a hot metal rod against Erestor's flesh, slowly and cruelly. The burns were oozing out a clear fluid and at some pieces the skin was even missing; completely being torn away by whatever device had caused the injuries. Elrohír briefly closed his eyes at seeing the scratches that ran over the burned flesh: thin, deep scratches from sharp nails that had raked over the injuries, causing more agony with relish.

And then there were the three small but deep wounds in his back and one opposite from them in his abdomen caused by the eagle's sharp claws.

But the most fatal wound was a stab wound in his lower abdomen, the knife still embedded in it.

Elladan's throat contracted and he looked up to the great eagle. "Who did this?"

"Orcs, young elf. Orcs did this."

Elladan growled lowly in his throat but then he remembered the letter and his brother, who sat on Erestor's other side, staring at him with wide eyes. Not again. He did not want to lose a fellow elf to that fell creatures again. But he could not give in to that rage, not now when he had just promised his brother not to.

"I am sorry, Elrohír. I will control myself. Let us see if we can make him stay."

"We have to stop the poison in his shoulder and the bleeding from the stomach wound."

"Bleeding always first!"

"I'm not stupid!"

Elrohír grabbed his rucksack and took out his pack of bandages and different tinctures that their father always made them take along. They had needed them before but never was he so glad to have them with him than now. It gave him the feeling that he really could do something, took away the helplessness.

Together the twins lifted the broken body on one of their blanket covered sleeping mats to keep Erestor away from the snow. It might seep through nonetheless after a while, but they had no other choice.  
They positioned him so that his head lied lower than his torso. The advisor had lost much blood if the pallor was any indication. He needed whatever blood reserves he had to sustain his brain.

Elladan swiftly pulled out his medical kit, starting to search for what they would need. Not wasting any time he rushed to Erestor and his brother.

Elrohír examined the knife. "It is long, but not very sharp. We probably need to cut the wound open and see what damage was done." Else the advisor could bleed to death internally without them noticing it.

Elladan drew nearer. "I will pull it out. Keep the bandages ready."  
Breathing deeply the twin pulled out the knife vertically with calm hands. Immediately Elrohír pressed a cloth tightly to the wound, but it did not bleed much. The younger twin bit his lips, internally it could still bleed like hell.  
His brother had taken up a sharp knife that was part of their medical kit. Waiting some minutes for the bleeding to stop Elrohír took away his hands, revealing the small cut in the white skin of Erestor's abdomen.

The brothers proceeded with enlarging the cut. Luckily they found that the knife had missed the vital organs; it had nearly pierced the bowel though but the rather blunt tip had slid past the intestinal loops rather than piercing them.  
They cleaned the injury as best as they could with a little bit of an antiseptic agent. They had not much but still they hoped it would keep the infection at bay.  
Elrohír soaked a compress with honey and carefully laid it on the wound that Elladan had sewn up.

Next Elladan tried to pull out the arrow head but it was deeply embedded and barbed and at last they had to cut it out. Carefully they set the fractured arm, nose, shinbone and fingers, cleaned the cuts and stitched the ones that were too large.

But their medical supplies contained nothing for the burns. They always expected to get hurt in a skirmish with Orcs and other fell creatures and their kits were designed for that uses; but fire did not count to the usual dangers they dealt with when out in the wilds.  
It would be difficult to keep them from oozing, Elladan clenched his jaw.

They had not enough antiseptic agent, nor honey, nor bandages ... they would have needed hot water for most of their powders against acute pain and without wood, that was not possible. Both twins felt so helpless. In Imladris, Erestor could have survived but here?

Finally they had bandaged the larger wounds, bound the ribcage tightly to support the broken ribs and wrapped the thankfully unconscious advisor in one of their blankets.  
The sun had long risen behind them but they could not see its friendly light because of the mountains in their back. For hours they had worked on Erestor's wounds and now they could do nothing but wait.

The great eagle still sat at the brink of the ledge they were on, eying them.

"Will he live?"

Elrohír wearily shook his head "I don't know. Not if we cannot get him away into warmth and safety. But he is injured too severely to be moved yet. We will wait and see."

When his brother fell silent with a frustrated shrug, Elladan addressed Landroval again "Where did you find him?"

The great eagle ruffled its feathers. "Ah, amongst many, many Orcs. They are gathering, marching north. He was their prisoner and thusly I saw him from afar. A Firstborn stands out amongst such filthy creatures, even if he is so grimy. I swooped down and picked him up, but one of them sank this knife into his flesh.  
He lost consciousness soon after and has not wakened since.  
I flew as fast towards Imladris as I could, but seeing you here I reconsidered."

"And it is good that you have, he would not have survived." Elrohír said honestly.

He cleared the blood from his hands with the snow around them, his elder twin following his example. Then Elladan turned towards the great eagle, bowing deeply in respect.

"Landroval we are already deeply indebted to you, you saved him, brought him here ... but if it is not too much, could you fly and bring us wood? Elrohír can go with you while I send Erestor's raven to our father and sit with Erestor. But we need it to get him warm and heat water."

The huge bird cocked its head and spread its wings a little bit. "Come then, Elrondion! There is nothing better to clear one's head than flying in the light of the rising sun. We will soon be back, other son of Elrond."

And with that he allowed Elrohír to mount him. The younger twin looked to his brother a little bit angered. He understood the need of it but truth be told, he was not eager to leave the safe ground and he definitely could imagine better things ... although it excited him also. Flying. Well, maybe it was worth the try.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

Elrondion ~ Son of Elrond  
Elrondyn ~ Sons of Elrond


	22. Wolves Are In Disguise

**CHAPTER 22: Wolves Are In Disguise**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

After having sent the large black common raven with a note to his father, Elladan sat down next to his charge and carefully laid one finger to his throat, feeling the soft pulse.

Once, Elrohír had been hurt badly in a fight that he had dragged him into. His brother had always been the more careful one, and normally it was the other way round: Elladan getting hurt and Elrohír stitching him up.

They had happened upon a troop of Orcs and Elladan had persisted on attacking them although his brother had cautioned him, had said that they were too many. He had not listened ... and nearly lost his brother. Elrohír had been badly wounded and after treating his injuries he had sat close to him, one finger pressed to his carotid, feeling the beat of his twin's heart. It had calmed him and it calmed him now to feel Erestor's steady rhythm. It meant that the advisor lived and would live yet a while longer. Long minutes went by as the elder twin sank deeply into his thoughts while monitoring his charge.

Erestor was a riddle he would probably never solve. He always made the appearance of a cold and single-minded ellon with an intelligence beyond his young years although his social intelligence was obviously more than lacking. But in contrast to his fellow elves, both twins had never disliked the black haired elf but pitied him, having seen the signs of the elven sickness on him for decades before and after Dírhael's death. He must have been very lonely.

"You are strong. Death and depression your constant companions, but still you always are stronger." He whispered softly.

The sad smile froze on his face. There was a sound.  
Elladan looked up and directly into an arrow that was directed at him from a ledge some metres above.  
A group of hooded persons looked down at him, most had their bows drawn at him, ready to shoot. There was no way that he could escape them, and so he stayed where he was, one finger pressed to Erestor's throat, his heart hammering madly in his chest.

They were clad in fine, dark grey tunics that hid them well between the rocks and their faces were concealed by black stripes of cloth, one covering the eye area, the other the nose and mouth; but the long bows betrayed their origin: elves from Greenwood they were. Elladan felt his throat tighten. The young counsellor to his feet had fled from those very elves centuries ago; they had tormented him and forced drugs upon him when he had only been a child.  
Those elves would kill him and take Erestor with them back to Mirkwood – a journey the dark ellon could not survive in his current state.

"If you want to live, stand back and raise your hands above your head!" One of the elves murmured, disguising his voice.

The heir of Imladris did as he was bidden. Slowly he stood and stepped back from Erestor's form. Those elves would probably kill him the moment they knew that he was vaguely aware of their identity; but maybe he had a chance to escape and save Erestor by playing the ignoramus. "What do you want?"

"Nothing from you!"

Two of them took away his weapons and bound his wrists tightly. They bound a rope around his neck so that he would have enough air to breathe but they could control him much more easily while climbing.

Elladan watched as they approached the unconscious ellon. "Don't move him. He is too severely injured and we have only recently stitched the most life-threatening of his wounds!"

The speaker climbed down and went to Erestor where he hunkered down. With the utmost gentleness he stroked the dirty black strands of hair out of the counsellor's face. Elladan nearly growled at him. That elf stood under his protection and he would not let anyone touch him like that.  
"Keep your hands off of him!" he hissed venomously.

"Be quiet, or I *will* kill you." The Elf turned to the others. "Lay him on the litter, but be careful."

"You can't do that. He is too weak. He will die!" Elladan raged.

"And gag that peredhel! Be swift, we need to be miles away when that eagle returns."  
He moved predatorily towards Elladan and the elder son of Elrond was sure that he was grinning evilly beneath that dark mask. "We will take you with us for awhile; none of us has the knowledge to treat Erestor's injuries. But you do."

* * *

Nearly four hours later Elrohír and Landroval returned. They had flown to the timberline below and the elf had gathered as much dry wood as he could, a tedious task for only bushes and dry grass grew in this higher areas. But it would suffice for awhile and hopefully Erestor would soon be well enough to be flown to Imladris by Landroval. Elrohír had talked to the great eagle and Gwaihir's brother had suggested to bring another great eagle and carry them out. The young peredhel gratefully accepted; it was the only possibility to end this nightmare and they still had to warn their grandmother about the impeding attack on Imladris.

Swiftly Landroval glided towards the ledge.  
"They are gone!" he suddenly cried.

Elrohír felt his heart missing a beat but he could not see what the sharp eyed eagle could. "What do you mean?" he called to him.

"Your brother and the elven seer. They are gone."

"No!" The younger peredhel suddenly felt dizzy. That could not be happening. Had the Orcs come to recapture their prisoner? Were the humans from Angmar behind it? Or Erestor's family? Lately it seemed that everyone had taken a sudden and disturbing interest in the young advisor.

Gracefully Landroval swept down and landed on the ledge with much more ease than in the night before, both legs being free now.  
Elrohír jumped from the eagles back and frantically searched for signs that would tell him where his brother and Erestor had been abducted to.

"Elves. Elves were here. Their feet did not sink deep into the snow. They took them. A litter was placed on the ground right here; they were prepared to carry an injured!"  
He frowned, trying to master the sudden panic that tried to freeze his thoughts. "No fight. They surprised my brother."  
If the kidnappers had wanted Erestor, they might have judged his elder twin to be dispensable.

'Oh, Elladan.'

He desperately tried to keep up his concentration, fighting against the fear that threatened to choke him.

'Think!'

Those were elves ... they would surely not risk the curse of the kinslayers if they could avoid it. Up to now Erestor's kin had refrained from killing any elf directly but had let the humans do it.  
Furthermore there was no blood, no signs of fighting ... they must have taken his brother along.

'Think, where could they have brought them?'  
Elrohír swallowed. Erestor was in no condition to be moved and the footprints showed that they were heading to Mirkwood, but northwest, away from the High Pass. He did not know where to go. southeast to warn their grandmother? Or northwest to save Elladan and Erestor?

Hundreds of lives or two? Landroval would be faster. The whole of Imladris or his own brother and his father's chief advisor.

"Landroval, Imladris! The army of Angmar! My grandmother has to be warned immediately! Please, I beg you: fly to Imladris and warn her, please!"

The eagle silently shook his head.  
"No, Elrondion. I shall seek the lost Firstborn with you. Gandalf and my brother will see to the safety of Imladris."

"But we don't know if they'll come in time."

"Elrondion" The eagle cocked his head, almost as if smiling at the ellon in front of him.  
"You have no package, nothing to eat or drink and no weapons. Trust in Gwaihir and Gandalf, they will keep your father's valley safe."

Biting his lips, Elrohír had to give in. Landroval was right; he had no chance to take on those elves on his own with only his hunting knife as weapon. Nodding he looked up to the great eagle.  
"Would you bear me then?"

Landroval only inclined his noble head.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
peredhel ~ half elf  
Elrondion ~ son of Elrond


	23. An Error Of Judgement

**CHAPTER 23: An Error Of Judgement**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Melpomaen gaped at his lady, completely aghast at her sublime impudence. Well, it definitely seemed Arwen had found a cure to the helplessness and frustration that had overcome her since poor Lindir had vanished the day before yesterday: Searching Erestor's private chambers.

Kneeling in front of his desk Elrond's only daughter grumbled very indecorously – in Melpomaen's opinion – and every now and then glared at him as if trying to kill the young assistant with her look. Maybe she was, considering that he stood uselessly in the middle of the room, having tried to convince her of the futility of her endeavour for the last hour, ever fumbling with the hems of his sleeves.

Arwen rolled her eyes again at Melpomaen's fidgeting. The young ellon was so pusillanimous!  
Pushing one drawer of Erestor's desk close with a petulant thrust and an irritated sigh she went on to the next.

"Really, my lady ... these are lord Erestor's private possessions!"

"Do tell!"

Ink, paper, quills, empty envelops, sealing wax. 'What private possessions? He *has* no private possessions!' she thought quite indignantly. Arwen pushed that drawer close, too and stood. Now, if she was a highly paranoid chief advisor ... turning with pursed lips she approached the doors to Erestor's bed chamber.

"We cannot rummage through his personal belongings, my lady!"

Groaning the dark haired maiden all but gnarled at him. "Stop being that nervous! And anyway: if we don't find something leading us to his kidnappers, you will have nothing to worry about, because a dead Erestor could not possibly behead you! Now help me search!"

Sighing dejectedly, Melpomaen joined his lady in the chief advisor's bed chamber and watched as Arwen started to search below and around the bed, finally drawn to the nightstand with its one drawer.  
'As if an elf such as lord Erestor would hide something important in such obvious places!' He thought indignantly.  
But the lady was right: they could not trust the traitor sent to them by Elrond to know anything, neither could they expect Haldir to return in time with Lindir and Faelon. A sudden sting pierced his heart. Lindir; how he prayed his friend was alive and well.

Concentrating on the matter at hand, Melpomaen turned to the large fireplace and he frowned. It was late summer and the nights were still warm. No fires should have been lit at this time of the year; not even by Erestor who must be the elf most sensible to the cold in the whole city, the only ellon with a diagnosed elven sickness.  
And yet, there was no small amount of ash covering the ground of the chimney. Taking up the poker that stood in a small rack nearby he began to part the ashes and soon encountered something solid.

Putting the poker aside he pulled out his handkerchief and picked the charred object up. "My lady ..." he whispered as his heart froze for the eternity of one second.  
As if fearing it could turn to dust in his hands he wiped the dirt away from the blackened thing with the utmost care. It was a small leather bound book, the binding burned by the fire; but as it had laid with the back towards the consuming flames, the leather had protected the fine paper, which only had dried and was now fragile beneath his fingers.

Arwen rushed to Melpomaen's side, watching with excitement as the assistant opened the journal with a calm hand.  
"Well?" she breathed, barely able to conceal her curiosity.

Careful to not force the dry papers open less they might crumble the young assistant leafed through the sites.  
"It's his handwriting, of that I am sure. It's a notebook ... notes, numbers that do not mean anything to me ... sketches. A diary." He looked up, a serious expression in his solemn eyes.  
"I am *not* going to read my superior's diary!"

And he closed the book, looking back into the chimney. Erestor had wanted it to burn, wanted it destroyed. As he had not planned on returning he had probably done that to everything too private for a stranger to find. But Erestor obviously had not taken the time to see if he had succeeded.

With a raised eyebrow Arwen snatched the book out of Melpomaen's hand. "Well, *I* am!"

But seeing his distraught expression, she forced herself to calm down again; the poor junior advisor had ever been shy and conscientious and she was putting him up to something that under normal conditions could cause him much trouble. With more compassion in her beautiful face she addressed him again. "I understand that you don't want to betray his trust but I wish to see him safe and I am not bound by friendship to refrain from invading into his privacy, for as much as I wished it to be different, he was ever distant towards me."

She smiled sadly and reached forward to squeeze Melpomaen's shoulder. "I vow that whatever it is I find in here will stay a secret if it won't help rescuing him."

With that she turned to go although she faced him once more. "Go, mellon. See to it that this valley does not dwindle into chaos whilst my father is absent. I'll see to the rest with my grandmother."

Smiling at the blond ellon she exited Erestor's chambers to find a secluded spot for her reading.

* * *

Galadriel had confined herself to the guest rooms, having her guards ensuring that she would not be disturbed. After all she had to see to the safety of Imladris.

With Nenya glistening like a star at her hand she stood at the large windows facing east towards the beautiful valley and let her mind wander over the trees, the people, animals, sentries, ever spreading her influence.

So far Elrond's portentous warnings of an upcoming danger had not proven true; but that did not mean that it would not. She needed to secure Imladris' borders, and quickly.  
And moreover somewhere out there in the woods were Haldir and his brothers, searching for the minstrel as some of the border guards of Elrond's had informed her. She loved the three of them dearly as did her husband and although she knew of their skills and trusted them she could not stop herself from worrying and her restless mind kept searching for them, wondering if they needed her help.

It was late that evening when finally, with a relieved sigh, she encountered Haldir's bright light. Casting her gaze down into the courtyard, Galadriel smiled at the chaotic feelings her marchwarden found himself in. 'My dear Haldir, can it be that you are in love?' she thought as her smile widened but she was careful not to let him see or hear what she had just come to know.

_****You found Lindir.****_

Immediately she felt Haldir's emotional turmoil abating as he forced himself to calm down to keep her from noticing the fierce storm that raged in his newly enamoured heart.

_****Yes my lady. A former senior advisor of Elrond's by the name of Faelon was behind it. He drunk water from the Enchanted River and is still asleep as we speak. The lord minstrel ...****_

Galadriel inwardly grinned at the formal title.

_****... is well and we shall arrive in the morrow.****_

_****Does Lindir have news of Erestor's whereabouts?****_ The Lady of the Golden Wood inquired more soberly.

_****The letter is destroyed but he read it beforehand. The name of lord Erestor's uncle is Brandon. His eldest son Magron is the chief advisor's husband ...****_  
There was a short silence after those words and Galadriel could feel that something grave troubled her marchwarden.

_****... my lady, lord Erestor erred concerning the time. His plans cannot be fulfilled in the way that he wanted them to and therefore it might well be that a human army of Hillmen from Angmar is marching towards Imladris.****_

Galadriel felt her throat tighten. Valar, she had not expected to fight a war on her own now, defending a realm she was not acquainted with.  
Grimly she focused on Haldir once more.

_**** Return quickly, I will get all sentries behind the Bruinen and send to the great eagles for aid and with the river's help we shall not fail!****_

Haldir almost shivered at his lady's tone, one did wise not to cross her.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
mellon ~ friend


	24. Orc Attack

**CHAPTER 24: Orc Attack**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

For almost three hours Elladan stumbled along behind his Mirkwood kin, who agilely moved over sharp rocks and stones, even managing to carry Erestor without greater difficulties. The uneven ground would not have been a hindrance for him either but one of them was rather cruelly pulling at the cord fastened to his bound wrists, making him lose his balance and sending him tumbling to the ground.  
That unnerving behaviour had started some minutes ago when his captor had obviously decided that he was not fast enough and already Elladan was covered with minor bruises and grazes.

Once again his knees made contact with the rocks and his hands were pulled out from under his body, leaving him unable to alleviate his fall. Quickly the Imladrian prince was pulled to his feet again, cursed at and sent on his unstable path again.

"What are you planning at?" Elladan growled but kept his gaze trained on the ground to prevent another tumble.  
Immediately Elladan was pulled forward in reminder of his situation. "We'd be faster if you didn't send me falling all the time!"

The next moment Elladan found himself lying in the snow and he gazed up to his captors in anger and hate. Had he been a little bit more alert he would have noticed the inner tension of his kidnappers, seen how they casted hidden glances at the evening sky above, that some still carried their bows quite openly in their hands instead of shouldering them to ease the climbing.

Suddenly the leader stood in front of him, grasping his hair harshly and using his punishing hold to bare his pale throat. "If you cannot hold our pace, we'll have to dispose of you."

Elladan's eyes widened fearfully as he felt the sharp blade of a long knife pressed to his throat.

* * *

"Down there, Elrondion!"

Elrohír strained his eyes to identify the dark spots that moved over the snow covered rocks beneath them. "Yes, I can see my brother."  
The younger twin growled in anger as Elladan fell hard to the ground.  
"We have to free them!"

But the eagle only set to soar in circles above the group far below. "And what do you suppose we do, Elrondion? Don't you see their bows?"

Some minutes passed in silence while they observed the hooded figures. Finally Elrohír conceded, his mouth clenched to a thin line. "Good. We'll wait for the night, then we will get my brother out. They will not kill Erestor, but they might decide that my brother is dispensable."

Just in that moment, Elladan was again pulled to the ground. Frowning Elrohír watched as one of the kidnappers approached his brother swiftly and then he gasped. A knife ... they would kill him, his twin, his Elladan!  
"LANDROVAL!"

His warning was unnecessary though – Gwaihir's brother had already seen it, was already reacting to the threat. With a loud, deafening cry he donned his enormous wings and let himself fall towards the stones in a staggering plummet. Elrohír buried his hands in the eagle's feathers, desperately trying to keep his hold.

* * *

Elladan closed his eyes in distress, trying to prepare himself for something one cannot possibly prepare oneself for. 'Elrohír ...'

His eyes flew up again as he heard the eagle's cry and felt his hair being released from the bruising grip. Turning on the ground Elladan saw Landroval falling down towards them. 'Too fast' was the first thought that broke through the chaos reigning his mind, 'he's way too fast!'

Not thinking, the elder twin hastily got up to escape the massive body that surely must crush them all in mere seconds. Neither of the Mirkwood Elves around him tried to stop him as they aligned their long bows.

Escaping the group Elladan scrambled over the rocks with his still bound hands. Seconds later all air was pressed out of his lungs as Landroval's sharp nails dug into his shoulders with a brutal force, originating from the almost unchecked plummet.

* * *

Elrohír looked over the shoulder of his companion, seeing his brother grasped by its huge claws. Grinning slightly he looked back and his smile froze.  
Not even a second later a swarm of arrows covered the fleeing princes and lord Gwaihir's brother, one hitting Elrohír's leg that was tightly pressed to the great eagle's muscular body, two piercing Landroval's right wing with fatal consequences:

While they were not harming him seriously and he could have flown on they caused a brief malposition of his wing. Too near to the ground and much too fast to act in time, the tip of the injured wing made contact with the snow, throwing Landroval off balance. Within a split of a second his body propelled in midair and Elrohír was thrown and landed hard on his left shoulder, his arm caught in an unfortunate position crushed beneath him, breaking possibly multiple times in the act.  
The great eagle crashed with his back forward into the iced rocks and – in an admirable presence of mind - slung Elladan backwards, reducing the force of his impact so that the elder prince was left shaken but mostly unharmed as he landed in a small snow ledge while the eagle's body skidded down the mountainside, vanishing from their sight.

Feeling nauseous and weak-kneed from the very short – and his first – flight, Elladan picked himself up and searched for his brother with a pounding heart.  
"Elrohír! ELROHÍR!" He screamed out, seeing the Mirkwood elves already running towards him. Somewhat shaky he made his way back, guessing that his brother must have been thrown before he had been.

Climbing a rock the elder prince saw his twin kneeling in the snow, cradling his left arm and trying to stand. "Elrohír! Behind you!"

Catching up on his brother's agitated voice, Elrohír turned to see the Mirkwood elves running towards him and he groaned. With his uninjured right arm he pulled his hunting knife and stood, wincing at the pain in his thigh, where the arrow head was still deeply embedded. Hurriedly he limped towards his twin, Elladan meeting him halfway.

Moving quickly the elder half elf grasped his brother's knife with his still bound hand and cut his ties before pressing the injured Half-Elf behind him, determined to defend him though he knew that they had no chance against the bows of their Woodland kin.

Only moments later their persecutors had caught up with them, keeping their bows trained at the twins.  
Again the leader stepped forward, cocking his masked head, but the two Imladrian princes could hear the ridicule in his voice as he addressed them.  
"Come, young prince, I have no intention to hurt you. Lay the knife down, you have no chance to escape!"

A tender hand laid itself on Elladan's from anger shivering shoulder. "He is right, brother. Lay it down. We cannot save Erestor when we are dead." His twin whispered into his ear.

Nervously Elladan watched the Mirkwood Elves closing in on them with fluid movements and one rather detached part of his mind admired those soldiers' professionalism.  
They had played them. They had pretended to try and kill him only to get the eagle near enough to shoot it. And they had managed to keep this from him by making him concentrate on the ground solely.

The leader approached him, one hand extended for the knife.

Would they kill them eventually? But if they really wanted to depose of him and his brother they would surely just do it now. Either way, if he wanted for Elrohír and himself to live yet a while longer, he needed to back down.  
Turning the knife in his hand Elladan held out its hilt for that damned Mirkwood elf to take. The still masked ellon cocked his head victoriously and snapped the knife out of Elladan's hand, causing him to clench his jaw in anger.

"Better use your energy to help your brother up again, *prince*, we are in a bit of a hurry and I'd hate having to kill him because he slows us down ..."

Surprising his brother and himself, Elladan stayed calm and silent. He was in no position to revolt against their captor and if he did that elf might forbid him to properly care for his brother's wounds. So he refrained himself from strangling the haughty ellon and instead turned to his brother to look him over.

"You should not have done that, El." He whispered gently, taking in the broken arm and arrow wound.

"I'll be fine, but you'd better remove that arrow and set my arm and splint it." For a moment the younger twin looked to their captor, wondering with no small amount of apprehension if that man would make true on his threat and kill him if he couldn't keep up.

But then he steeled his features and proudly encountered the Mirkwood elf's stare while Elladan grabbed his arm tightly.  
"That great eagle was the lord Landroval, lord Gwaihir's brother. He will be found and then you will not only have the eagles to worry about, but the White council also!"  
Elrohír stifled his scream as Elladan had used his distraction to set his arm and he closed his eyes for a moment only to open them seconds later, boundless hate burning within and his voice trembled with revulsion and pain as he spoke up again.  
"One of the great eagles injured or murdered by Greenwood's sharp arrows ... isn't that something? You'd better pray he lives."

The leader of the traitorous group said nothing for a moment. Then his hands wandered to his hood, letting it slide back to reveal his golden hair before he untied the bindings of the lower part of his mask, revealing thin lips that were curved in a menacing smile.

Like a predator he approached the twins and the blue cold eyes seemed to hold Elrohír captured as he stared into them and only the presence of his brother kept him from retreating.

Moments later the younger twin found the black head of a coarse arrow pointed directly into his face and he wrinkled his nose in disgust: it was one of the roughly crafted arrows used by Orcs. He looked aside, giving the blonde the illusion of having won. No need to tell that cursed ellon that his whole family, including his grand-parents and of course Gandalf and Gwaihir would have no problem at all to guess correctly that it hadn't been Orcs who shot at Landroval and kidnapped the heirs of Imladris.

But with mild force the blonde used the arrow head to turn his face his way again, making him look into the cruel eyes once more.  
"Now, if you don't want to be the victim of an Orc attack also, you'd better obey and stay silent."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

Elrondion ~ son of Elrond  
ellon ~ male elf


	25. Tress

**CHAPTER 25: Tress**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Elrond sat between Glorfindel's legs, his body resting against the chest of his lover, relishing in the comfort that the blond's embrace gave him.  
Together they stared in the flames dancing hypnotically into the night. Glorfindel's hands stroked ever so gently over Elrond's upper arms, his lover's left hand resting on his leg, while both pursued their own thoughts.

The captain had arranged for guards as he had done the previous nights, his men had erected a campfire for the first time since their departure from Imladris and everyone had enjoyed a hot meal and some tea. They were now only half a day's march away from the Old Ford and the possibility of being attacked was far less tangible than in the mountains.

Still the soldiers were worried. They knew that Erestor, who had saved their loved ones in Imladris, their lord and probably many of their comrades by preventing a fight with those humans, would die if they came too late.  
And they wondered if they would be allowed to enter the dark forest, for the relationship between the two realms was still somewhat strained. The lord of Imladris seeking entrance and accusing one of Thranduil's trusted advisors of kidnapping and attempted murder of the ruling family of the Hidden Valley would certainly not contribute to an improvement of that relationship.

But at least they knew where to search for Erestor.  
Seldom had Elrond been this relieved as when Galadriel had contacted him again, telling him the name of his chief advisor's uncle.

Brandon. Centuries ago he had heard of his sudden and fast advancement within the ranks of king Thranduil's advisors. Now he knew that Erestor had paid the price. In retrospect he should have known; the moment that he read in Erestor's fine writing that he was a seer he should have known. But he had not.

But then again, it did not matter anymore as they were about to cross this depraved elf's plans. Only time and Thranduil stood in their way now; the proud king would not be pleased to hear accusations against one of his eldest advisors and maybe he would – unknowingly and unintentionally – hinder them to save Erestor.

* * *

"I love you." Glorfindel said, kissing Elrond's brown, satin-like hair, waking the brunet from his wandering thoughts.

The lord of Imladris looked upwards, nearly wrenching his neck in doing so, and smiled. "And I love you, Fin."

Glorfindel grinned. "I wish you would stop calling me 'tress'. It just sounds so ... stupid."

Elrond chuckled and then whispered for his lover's ears only "but 'Glorfindel' is just not a name made to cry out in passion. Three syllables ... it's just too long ... Laurinque"

"That has three syllables, too. Besides: Quenya, Elrond? That is unusual."

"But I like the sound of it ... laure ... isn't that better than côl?"

"Whatever name you want to cry out for me in passion, love, I do not care ... as long as it stays in our bedroom." Glorfindel murmured in a husky voice.

Elrond laughed. Again both Elves fell into a comfortable silence while the soldiers around them unrolled their sleeping mats.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

Elrondion ~ son of Elrond  
ellon ~ male elf  
fin ~ tress  
laurinque ~ golden one (Quenya)  
laure ~ gold (Quenya)  
côl ~ gold


	26. Guardian

**CHAPTER 26: Guardian**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

The Mirkwood Elves had gone on for nearly the whole night with only a short rest.

After allowing Elladan to treat his brother's wounds and see once more to Erestor they had taken in a north-eastern direction, not making the time-consuming detour back to the pass. Though carrying Erestor while climbing proved to be a tedious endeavour at best and slowed them down considerably.

Elladan was helping his brother, who was unable to put much weight on his right leg and could not use his left arm. Both of them tried hard to keep up with their kidnappers as they knew they could not hope for help or sympathy and every once in awhile, Elladan checked on Erestor.

The injured advisor was doing better and the elder peredhel was glad that the bigger cuts and welts were not infected. But the burns were still oozing and concerned him greatly. He had tried to cool them but had little experience in tending to such injuries. He did not really know if cooling them with snow would make it worse or better and he only sparsely used that method, not wanting to add frostbite onto a burning; he was not sure how one would be supposed to treat such a wound.  
The real problem was that he had no antiseptic agent anymore and nothing else that he could use to prevent an infection, like ginger, honey or garlic. His captors also had little else than clean bandages and tincture based on camomile. Better than nothing.

For some time now the twins had seen their father's advisor moving around on his litter, but not really wakening. The poor darkling must be in a considerable amount of pain and Elladan wished he could do something to lessen it, but he had no tincture, no powder to achieve that. Neither could he do anything against the pain in his brother's broken arm and he furrowed his brow seeing Elrohír's white face.

Elladan's frown deepened, seeing Erestor moving about and moaning.  
"He is waking." He addressed an Elf walking close.

The leader with the cruel eyes and sneer whom Elladan had silently named cockatrice, immediately drew nearer.  
"Stop, we will rest for awhile!"

The blonde gently touched Erestor's white cheek, stroking the dry skin.  
"Sshh, pen velui. You are safe with me." He murmured.

Elladan glared at him over his shoulder while he took out a blanket from the rucksacks that they had been returned and unfurled it for his brother. "Safe? Ha! Lay him down so I can see to his injuries that you are aggravating further by making him travel!"

The other cocked his head. That peredhel knew not when to be silent. It mattered not, he would not need him for long. Slowly he backed away.  
"See to his injuries then."

Elladan helped Elrohír to sit down on the blanket, knowing that his twin was worn out from the pain at walking with a badly broken arm and an injured leg for so long over difficult terrain.  
"I'll see to you afterwards."

But the younger peredhel had already closed his weary eyes. They had after all not slept the previous night and his condition tired him further. "I'll be fine, gwanunig."  
Then Elladan turned his attention towards his other charge and his expression became grim. This was Erestor, cold and aloof Erestor so vulnerable and broken before him. This elf had sacrificed himself to save his family, his brother, him.  
He waited for his captors to lay Erestor down and then gently began to see to his wounds.

"Heat water! I have to make him drink something."  
Elladan did not look up to his captors, solely concentrating on the darkling before him, softly caressing the uninjured skin on his cheek. "Sshh, I know you're hurting. Awake Erestor, I am here."

He knew that Erestor could hear him but he also knew that the young ellon might still be caught in a nightmare with torture and monsters and the pain would not help him realise that at least this ordeal was over.

After a few more tries and gentle caresses, the dark eyes finally opened and slowly filled with awareness. "Good pen idhren. Do not speak. Listen to my voice; let it guide you back to reality."

But Erestor clenched his eyes shut and contorted his face in the effort to deal with the pain.  
Elladan felt so helpless, he could do nothing against the agony his charge must be in.  
He pulled away the blanket and saw to the burns. Once again he applied the camomile and loosely bandaged them. Obviously being exposed to the cold air lessened the pain for the advisor and Elladan only covered Erestor's chest and hip with the blanket, leaving his legs open for the moment. He let Erestor sip water out of a flask that he was handed, all the while trying to soothe the counsellor with softly spoken words.

"El...dan ... ond? ... findel?" The whispered words were strained, broken by the fast, shallow breathing.

"You saved them, mellonen, you saved them. Everyone is safe and sound. Except you. Do not worry."  
White lies were allowed in their current situation, he guessed.  
"Don't try to move. You suffered some broken bones and I am almost sure that you have one or two fractured ribs and they might cause more injuries if you do."

Elladan observed the pained expression with a sinking feeling, fearing the injuries that hid under the large bruises on Erestor's ribcage.  
"I know that breathing hurts you terribly but you need to breathe as deeply as you can!" He pleaded with the injured ellon. "Or else you might get an infection." And that would be too much for the weakened body.

Finally they handed Elladan some tea. It cooled down quickly in the chilling air and soon he mixed some of the few pain relievers he had into the green tea. Carefully he lifted Erestor's head and laid the cup to his lips, assisting him to drink it.

"He loses much water because of the burns. He needs to drink at least four litres daily."  
Elladan turned to their captors. "We need to halt more often."

The advisor turned his head, seeing the Mirkwood Elves for the first time, recognising them even with the masks covering their eye region. His breathing quickened even more and he groaned in misery and at the pain in his chest.  
This was not happening, no it was not. He should have been dead already. Why wasn't he dead? He did not want it to happen again; he could not stand it, not survive it.

Immediately Elladan turned towards him again, trying to console him. "Hush, Erestor! It is alright. I am here. I will not let anyone hurt you, do you hear me? "  
He leaned over Erestor, taking his head gently but firmly between his hands, forcing the panicking ellon to look at him.  
"You know me: Elladan. I am here. I will watch over you. Calm, mellon, calm down."

"You ... should ... not ... be here." He whispered somewhat strained, trying to keep his breathing shallow. And it was true: the twins should have gone to Imladris with their father, protecting the valley. If they were not, where was Elrond? His plan had failed then.

"You should not be here, too. Now hush, keep your strength; and breathe as deeply as you can."  
As Erestor concentrated on Elladan's calming, gentle face, trying hard to do as he was told, the cockatrice approached slowly.

"Elethael" He crooned and went down on his heels beside their captives while Elladan pressed his lips together and tried his best to restrain himself from attacking the hated ellon.

"Sleep, pen velui. I will take you home where you belong. No one will ever hurt you again." He caressed Erestor's face which only had the effect that the injured Elf started to shiver, tears escaping his eyes and running down the sides of his face in wet trails.  
Erestor obviously feared this man, cunning and devious.

Elladan saw Erestor's reaction and directed a deadly glare at his captor. "You are frightening him. If you want him to sleep, be gone from his field of vision." He hissed venomously.

"Careful, peredhel. You don't want me to punish you or your brother for your insolence, do you?" But nonetheless he backed away, leaving the injured ellon some space. "I need him awake and able to speak."

Elladan glared at the retreating ellon but held back the insults he had in mind, it would do him no good to goad his captor beyond any reasonable limits; and Erestor needed him close. "That's not going to happen today."

Then he turned back to the young broken thing that could not have been any more different from his father's stern, serious advisor, taken aback by his sudden protective feelings.  
"Sleep, pen idhren. No harm shall come to you while I am here beside you. I shall protect you always, do you hear me?"  
Haunted, teary eyes turned to his, fearful yet astonished. "I swear, Erestor: We'll get through this mess, you, 'Ro and me."

Some peace returned to the haunted grey orbs and Erestor's breathing calmed just as he escaped once more into oblivion.  
"May lord Irmo grant you pleasant dreams, pen idhren."

Looking up, Elladan saw his twin watching him with a small smile and he felt Elrohír's mind touching his gently _**** I am proud of you, gwanunig. ****_

He smiled back at his younger twin, glad that Elrohír was here with him, even if it was selfish somehow.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhel ~ half elf  
gwanunig ~ twin  
ellon ~ male elf  
pen idhren ~ wise one  
mellonen ~ my friend  
mellon ~ friend  
pen velui ~ sweet one


	27. Interesting Developments

**CHAPTER 27: Interesting Developments**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Arwen laid on the velvet covered lounge on her balcony, one hand fiddling with the seam of the soft pillow beneath her head, the other resting on Erestor's diary on her belly, moving up and down with her breathing.  
Hidden from sight, against the silk of her gown, upon the opened pages of the journal was a drawing, one of many drawings that were so alike and yet so different, that had pushed her mind into turmoil and had woken her from her dreams.

For hours now she had lain there, her weary, sleepless eyes staring into the sky while the stars had risen and faded again without her taking notice. Now only the dry salty trails bore witness to the tears that she had cried upon the realisation that Erestor – unapproachable, haughty Erestor – was indeed passionately, hopelessly in love with her fathers, both of them it seemed.

While she could not yet fathom what this revelation changed for her, her siblings, her family, for her life, she was deeply troubled at the loneliness that every word in each sentence, every line of each drawing radiated and that Erestor had chosen for himself in a sort of insane self-castigation.

If Erestor survived he would face that loneliness again, a loneliness that he would not be able to defeat any longer as the reason of his life would die with the victory over his family. Succumbing to the elven sickness the last days of his life would be filled with cold and grief.  
Unwillingly the lady shivered at those thoughts. This was not a fate she'd wish upon any elven being.

And she would sit by, weighted down by the knowledge that she might stop it if only telling her father.  
Elrond would not allow Erestor to fade, the one that had done so much to save him, of that she was sure, and Glorfindel ... what could this mean for their relationship? Did she really want to endanger their marriage?

It was a decision she felt not able to make; but hadn't her grandmother spoken of 'lovers', of her father's lovers, when she had told Arwen and her siblings of the visions of Celebrían and Elrond and their fate? The sounds of hooves in the courtyard disrupted her musings and slowly she stood, gazing curiously over the handrail and whispering her thanks to the lady of the stars, Arwen smilingly closed her eyes for a moment. There beneath her a small party of soldiers had arrived, among them four fair haired ellyn.

Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin, her grandmother's valiant marchwardens, along with Lindir. The minstrel sat in front of Haldir while the two younger Lóriën brothers shared another horse. They must have met one of the few mounted patrols and taken their horses to fasten the journey home.  
Raising an elegant eyebrow she noticed the protective hold in which Lindir found himself.

'Interesting.' Arwen smiled to herself.  
The white haired Lindir would be good for Galadriel's much too serious captain.

Then her gaze swept to the third horse and her face hardened. On the brown large stallion sat another soldier in Imladris' colours, keeping a tight hold on the one sitting before him: Faelon; They had been right.  
Arwen watched with a frown as the unconscious advisor was lowered into the arms of her father's servants and was brought to the healing wings, wondering what had happened; she could not detect any injuries and Faelon was even smiling slightly in his slumber.

Deciding to get Melpomaen and meet the three soldiers and the minstrel in her grandmother's chambers she left her balcony, Erestor's diary still in her hand.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellyn ~ male elves


	28. Greenleaf

**CHAPTER 28: Greenleaf**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Two and a half days after Glorfindel and Elrond had again passed the top of the High Pass they reached the Great River by following the Forest Road leading to Mirkwood. The Ford was protected by the elves of Mirkwood, and long before the Noldor arrived, their keen eyed Woodland kin had spotted them.

It was Legolas Greenleaf himself who lead the unit that was stationed there. The young prince had bidden farewell to their guests a little bit more than a week ago when they had left their kingdom and he had then taken the watch at the Great River.

And as he now greeted the lords of Imladris once more with a deep bow, the late afternoon sun caught in his hair and his sparkling eyes.

"My lord Elrond, lord Glorfindel! Have you by any chance forgotten something in our Greenwood, that you grace us again so shortly after your departure?"  
But his eyes curiously wandered to Glorfindel, knowing that something grave must have happened for the seneschal of Imladris to be here. Elrond could never have reached Imladris and returned to Mirkwood in merely one week. That left as only explanation that the balrog slayer had caught his lord on the High Pass.

"None of that sort, dear prince." Elrond replied and dismounted, his soldiers following his lead, relaxing now in the company of their Woodland kin.

"We are here in search of someone; a black haired young ellon probably in the company of some of your sentries."

Legolas cocked his head ever so slightly. A troop of twenty heavily armed soldiers on horseback following one Noldorin Elf that accompanied a troop of Sindar? That meant the black haired ellon was either a criminal whom they sought, or ... else missing.

"I am not aware of sentries having left our realm, lord Elrond. Who is this ellon that you search, if I might ask?"

Elrond chewed on his lips for some moments, wondering how much he should tell the bright young ellon. "It is a very long story, my prince, but he is my chief advisor. Erestor. I am sure you never met him."

Trying not to show his surprise Legolas answered lord Elrond's unasked question. "The last elves that crossed the ford were you, my lord. None has ventured here since, not that I am aware of at least. But we do not control the Carrock and there are other places where one might cross the river."

Glorfindel approached, standing close to Elrond he quietly asked "could it be that they are behind us?"

"If some of my father's sentries are involved in this somehow, I would like to know why you are searching for him." The young prince requested and wonderingly watched as the lords before him started to hem and haw. He had to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from grinning at this rare sight.

Elrond coughed. "It's ... rather ... complicated."

Maybe it was disrespectful: the Elves in front of him were many times his elder, they had seen things he only could wish to never be forced to face. But to see the mighty lords of Imladris that flushed ... it was priceless.

Legolas leaned forward conspiratorially whispering to the brunet lord "I think I might just be able to understand." He winked.

Elrond sighed. He liked that prince, he really did. But he was not in the mood for foolery.

"Erestor has been kidnapped. Galadriel is in Imladris, as she was trying to prevent it. And the worst is: we know that he has been kidnapped by elves from Greenwood ..."

The young prince blinked. "That cannot be true ..."

"... and he will die, if we do not find him in time."

Legolas head whirled. Valar, what that would mean for the relations between Imladris and Greenwood.  
His mind screamed in denial.  
"This is not funny, my lord."

"I agree, it isn't."

"None of my people would be so insane as to kidnap your chief advisor, lord Elrond. This is just not possible."

Glorfindel stepped forward "Prince Legolas, Lord Elrond by no means intends to be disrespectful and we understand that none besides the kidnappers were involved in this treachery. Lord Elrond only asks for the permission to enter Greenwood to search for lord Erestor and maybe, if you will grant it, your assistance."

Legolas nodded solemnly. "You will have both, my lord, though I sincerely hope that you are wrong ... but where to search for him? Greenwood's chaparral is impermeable. If they are hiding, it will be neigh impossible to find them, especially since you claim that they hail from here."

Elrond swallowed. He had not thought about the possibility of the culprits to hide in the undergrowth, but had hoped that Brandon would keep Erestor close and therefore in reach of one of Mirkwood's fortified villages. Now that Legolas mentioned it, it seemed to be the more logical choice to hide his chief advisor far away from searching eyes, protected by some guards with whom Brandon could keep in contact using messenger birds; at least for some time.

"I'm afraid that his kidnapper is one of your father's advisors. An ellon named Brandon, do you know him?"

Legolas' eyes went wide. "Brandon? Of course I know him!"  
'When it rains, it pours!' Legolas thought. Although he had never liked the haughty, arrogant, devious fox, his father was quite fond of him. Taking Elrond's elbow, he steered the elven lord away from curious ears, followed only by Glorfindel.

"My lord, if I may be so bold as to advise you: do *not* accuse Brandon openly, save you have certain proof. My father will not take it lightly."

Elrond looked to his lover for a moment. He remembered well how adamant Erestor had been when he refused to reveal the identity of his family members; he had said that no one would believe him. He seemed to have been right about that. They needed to catch Brandon in the act then...  
His thoughts faltered as more and more Erestor's behaviour made sense to him. If they found the dark ellon – or his body at least – with Brandon, his guilt would be proven.  
Forcing himself to concentrate on the young prince in front of him, Elrond managed a smile.  
"You give good advice, young prince. What do you propose we do?"

Legolas bit his lip in obvious discomfort. Thranduil would certainly go through the roof if he knew what Elrond wanted to do, telling him was no option ... but he could not go against his father, could he?  
Besides, he would not be able to keep this a secret from his father: Brandon lived in his Thranduil's halls.

"Whatever we decide to do: we could not forbear to notice that you have not rested this midday and I would invite you and your soldiers to rest some at our fires. We would not reach the forest before nightfall anyway and it is not good to travel these parts of Greenwood in the dark, the star's light does not pervade the treetops."

The prince of Mirkwood gestured to the camp behind him. "Let me be your host. Please come to join us at our fires. And while you eat we can decide how to proceed."  
Legolas inclined his head as lord Elrond thanked him and the Imladrian soldiers unloaded their horses and joined their Woodland kin at the fires.

Sometime later Elrond, Glorfindel and Legolas sat some metres away from the other elves to discuss their course of action. They had told the Mirkwood prince all they knew about Erestor and although Legolas still felt enormously sceptical about the whole matter, he assured them to give them the chance to prove their story and lead them personally to wherever they wanted to search.

"There are many possibilities: they could hide somewhere in Greenwood's thick undergrowth, in this case odds are against us and we will most certainly not find them. However ..." he added as Elrond and Glorfindel looked to each other in worry.

"... I do not think that to be the case. If what you told me is true, then they wouldn't move him too often. I heard stories of your advisor; the danger of him outsmarting his kidnappers is too high. *I* certainly wouldn't risk it."

Legolas could well remember how disgruntled his father's advisors always were when they had had to deal with that fire ball of a chief advisor. Not to mention his father when his counsellors returned after all but having been talked under the table, made contracts that Imladris benefited significantly but not egregiously more from than Greenwood. And after the first few times they had even been dead certain to have gotten the better of Erestor.

"Besides: there are always my father's guards and the great spiders and other wild animals to worry about when freely moving around in Greenwood.  
The second possibility is that Brandon brought him to his residence within my father's halls ..."

"He is not going to be anywhere near the king's halls!" Glorfindel interfered. "The danger of being caught is too high, no sane elf would risk this!"

"Exactly (although I certainly wouldn't consider him sane). That's why I think he would be in a certain northern outpost or near it – if he is in Mirkwood at all. In the one I mean there are mostly members of Brandon's family or his narrow circle of friends and their families. It's one of the few outposts, where whole families live ... the danger of spiders is not as high as in the central regions of Greenwood and there wouldn't be any by chance meetings with other guards."

Elrond nodded, pleased with the prince's preliminary estimate. "Will you take us there?"

Legolas looked back to his men. "Yes, I will; personally. But I need to send word to my father according to protocol via a messenger bird."

Urgently Legolas looked into Elrond's eyes. "I'll warn you though: if my father acts at once and sends guards there, too, he might get to the outposts before us ... or soon after."Merely half an hour later the Imladrian soldiers remounted their horses to depart for the northern outpost. Two of the men would share one horse so the prince could ride alongside them.

As Legolas sat on the bare dark back, gently stroking the short fur he saw Elrond steering his large mount towards him. The elven lord gave him a curt nod and smile.

"Thank you, my prince."

"What for, lord Elrond?"

"For your considerate actions. I was afraid you would send us to your father's halls first and I fear that this would have been Erestor's death sentence."

Legolas thoughtfully looked to the Noldorin lord. "I do not yet believe you. But my father would not have allowed you to see for yourself if Brandon was guilty. As it is, I do not like him, and I would not think it beyond him to kidnap a fellow elf.  
My father will investigate though and send some guards and I will have to answer for not accompanying you to his halls. I hope you will not make me regret it."

Elrond smiled and shook his head. Now everything depended on Erestor's whereabouts and if they had been able to guess correctly.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf


	29. Stratatgem 2

**CHAPTER 29: Stratagem 2**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

On Gwaihir's muscular back Gandalf had flown north to examine the human army that was stationed there and indeed the pair had found almost two thousand soldiers marching south, not more than six days from Imladris.

That had been in the morning; immediately turning around they made to alert the eagles and warn Galadriel in Imladris but now – with the moon shining bright above them - they saw far below hundreds of Orcs on their way north through the dark night. Runners separated from the main force to inform other tribes and their numbers were constantly growing as other groups joined them.  
Like a gigantic black mass of steel and leather, growls and roars they climbed down the mountainside.

"They are not heading for Imladris!" Gandalf called out to his companion.  
"They are heading for the Hillmen army. I can still see their fires from here. What does that mean, Olórin?"

"It means that someone tricked them into attacking those who planned on attacking Imladris. We should let them."

"Erestor."

"Yes, Erestor. Let us fly to Imladris, my friend. I am very curious if Galadriel found something out about that smart chief advisor of Elrond's."

Immediately the great eagle changed direction once again, flying towards the Hidden Valley.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**


	30. Mind Games

**CHAPTER 30: Mind Games**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Elrohír rested in his brother's arms, shivering from the pain that originated from his broken arm and leg injury and coursed through his body like liquid acid. They had forced him to go on for the whole last day and most time of the night, too, and the agony from his injuries was driving him insane.

He pressed further into his sleeping brother's chest and felt Elladan's arms tighten around him unconsciously. His twin had tried to help him, had supported him, but still Elrohír knew not if he could go on for another day like that. But if he didn't ...

Forcing his thoughts into another direction the younger twin looked east towards the sun that was slowly rising before him, bathing them in the silvery light of a new day.  
And down there lay Mirkwood, dark and sinister. Funny ... it had not seemed to him like that when he had last seen it, merely a week ago when they had left behind the plain to cross the Misty Mountains.  
And soon they would reach that plain again – a journey of two hours, if he guessed correctly; then at least they would not have to climb any further.

Suddenly a quiet murmur disturbed his musings and he looked to where Erestor sat in a more or less upright position, held by that blond monster in a manner that would support his breathing. The cockatrice had not allowed Elladan or him to do that and more and more Elrohír got the disturbing feeling that he knew why; the way the other stroked Erestor's black tresses and every now and then planted a soft kiss on his shoulder or head was more than enough to tell him that.

Despite his growing disgust Elrohír kept his face neutral as he thought of a way to stop the molesting and not endanger himself or Elladan. Calmer and more considerate than his brother would have managed he addressed the blonde. "You should let him sleep."

Steel-blue, cold eyes locked with his and Elrohír could see a dangerous sparkle glowing within the pale orbs as the undoubtedly brilliant mind focused all its capacities on himself. Still the cockatrice continued to nuzzle the black tresses with a chilling half-smile, ignoring Elrohír's comment; he seemed so smug, so confident of victory that the younger twin immediately wondered over the malice causing such vile elation.

And indeed he didn't have to wait long for the dagger stab, a dagger stab in the form of a seemingly simple but fatal question: "Why are you here?"

For a terribly long moment Elrohír felt frozen and all logic thoughts fled his mind.  
The cockatrice's smile widened. "I mean: Why have you followed my Elethael instead of returning to Imladris with your injured father like a good son?"

'Oh, damn!' Why had he roused the cockatrice's attention? Why hadn't he stayed quiet? Elrohír desperately hoped that his efforts to keep his face calm were not as futile as they seemed to him while he pulled himself together and concentrated on one essential question: what did the blonde know; about what could he lie to him and what could he keep secret.

With his gaze still trained on the prince of Imladris, the blond tilted Erestor's head to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth, causing the dark haired ellon to knit his brow. "Did you hear me, my prince?"

He couldn't tell him of the letters Erestor had written or else the kidnapper would know that his identity was a secret no more and that the lords of Imladris and Lóriën and soon Greenwood, too, were taking extreme measures to find Erestor. And how was he to explain Landroval's presence?

And then a thought came to his mind: Vilya. The cockatrice could surely not know that Erestor had sent their father's ring back or else he would have been very close to either Erestor or the place where they had met Glorfindel; but both scenarios were not very likely: the first because the cockatrice then would have gotten to Erestor before the Orcs had and the second because Glorfindel's soldiers would not have overlooked a dozen elves when they were that close.  
With a daring lie he could maybe fool that smart devil, a lie and a considerable amount of acting skills.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, the younger twin regarded his captor as if trying to assess him. "For the same reason as you."

For a second the blonde looked bewildered as he undoubtedly asked himself if Elrohír knew of Erestor's dreams, and with Elrohír Elrond, and with Elrond the other rulers of the elven kingdoms and if they knew ...  
But then the uncertainty was hidden under a well controlled mask, a mask that was so similar and yet so unlike to the one Erestor had always used. A false smile spread upon the cockatrice's face as he cocked his head. "And what would that be?"

Now it was Elrohír's time to feign ignorance. "Vilya, of course." He said with as much disgust as he could muster, as if he thought that the other was taking him for a fool instead of testing his knowledge.

A loud laugh broke from the blonde's lips in pure relief and amusement: the Imladrian elves were clueless.

"Vilya, you think I wanted Vilya?"

Elrohír frowned in feigned confusion while in fact he was no lesser relieved than the blonde in front of him.  
"But ... but of course! First you tried to take it from my father with the help of those humans and then when Erestor stole it you chased him!"

"Oh, this is rich!"

"I wouldn't say that one of the three elven rings falling into orcish hands was rich!"

"What makes you think the Orcs have it?"

"Well, Erestor obviously hadn't got it when Landroval found him between those Orcs and now they are gathering for an attack. I don't know but for me it certainly looks like they have it!"

"I assure you that neither do those Orcs have your father's ring nor do I want it."

'Victory!' Elrohír couldn't believe that it had been that easy but after all the blonde was maybe just readily believing the only explanation that would not lead to his downfall.  
"But then, why ...?"

"Elethael, of course! You have no idea what treasure was hidden in your precious Imladris."  
He paused for a moment, looking down to the black shock of hair resting against his chest. "Anyway, it is time to wake up!"

And while the cockatrice started to rouse the ellon in his arms with gentle touches and strokes Elrohír used the opportunity to wake his brother and tell him of the lies he had fed the cockatrice so that Elladan would not accidentally blow their cover.

* * *

An hour later Elladan had treated his two patients and the group was ending their humble breakfast in silence when the twins witnessed an open dispute between their kidnappers; the first real conversation aside from short exchanges of words since their capture.  
There had been tensions between the masked elves since Erestor's first awakening although they were determined to not show its nature in front of their Noldor kin and that determination had resulted in a taut silence that had seemed unbreakable ... until now.

The cockatrice had again taken up his position behind Erestor, supporting him and feeding him softened elfish bread; although the advisor's state had considerably improved (much to Elladan's astonishment), his broken fingers made it impossible to eat without help. The loving gestures the blonde bestowed on the younger darkling were frowned upon by most of his comrades but either he did not notice or he chose to ignore that fact. And the rest of the Silvan elves became troubled by the growing discontent and it was one of those who spoke up, a tall, lean ellon with flaxen hair.

"We cannot afford to tarry. Ask him now."

Curiously, Elladan and Elrohír watched as the cockatrice shot a deadly glare at the speaker. "He is still weak ..."  
To the twins it almost seemed preposterous but still Erestor seemed to press back into his cousin's back as if trying to hide; the unyielding, haughty chief advisor of Imladris hiding behind his very tormentor like a frightened fawn.

"Weak? Elethael is strong enough to eat and drink and to answer a few questions."

Privately, Elladan thought the ellon was right. When he had examined Erestor earlier he had been astonished to find the bruises already becoming yellowish; the burn marks had stopped oozing and the tissue surrounding his broken limbs had detumesced quite a bit. Although he would never tell their kidnappers – Erestor was indeed able to answer questions.

"We need to know where they are! Soon we'll be in the camp and we cannot tarry there now that the princes of Imladris are with us!"

Once again the cockatrice glared at everybody around before he gently brushed Erestor's cheek. "Very well. Elethael, look at me!"

But Erestor wouldn't and so the cockatrice continued with a sigh. "Then listen: Where is my brother, Elethael? Where is he, hmm?"

Frowning, Elladan observed the scene with a queasy feeling. Erestor seemed troubled, scared almost and hesitant to answer the question; he only shook his head and looked up to his cousin as if awaiting a blow.

But the blonde only narrowed his eyes, already suspecting the answer. "Where, Elethael? In two hours we'll reach a camp where horses are waiting for us; will he come?"

For some moments the almost hostile silence and tension between the elves grew until Erestor's whisper broke it. "He won't. My husband is dead, they all are."

A shocked murmur rouse, subliminal at first than rising, gaining in anger, surrounding threateningly so that Erestor once again cowered into the protecting arms of his cousin as well as he could in his battered state.

_**** Oh by Elbereth, Elladan! They forced him into a marriage ... he was not even of age when he left for Imladris! ****_ Shocked, Elrohír observed how Erestor's cousin took the advisor's chin between his fingers and forced him to look into his face. "How, Elethael?"

"Half of them were buried under the avalanche ... they were too close ... the others blindly followed me with some of the humans and when we ... when we encountered Orcs, they ... I made them think I was an ambassador and my pursuers were my guard ... I told them that Imladris and Angmar had joined forces against them ..."  
Regret and fear resonated in the small voice but then Erestor looked defiantly up, his dark eyes blackening dangerously. "The Orcs will dispose of your human army, cousin!"

"And the Orcs killed them all? Why didn't they kill you?"

"I made clear that I was the leader when we were attacked ... so they killed the others and ... questioned me ... "

"*You* killed them, Elethael!" One of the Silvan elves all but shouted, making Erestor cringe.

"Shut up!" the cockatrice hissed venomously. "Did you think he would watch how those humans killed his lord and raided his home? Did you think he would not defend himself?"

"I did not want them to die." Erestor cried with a choked voice, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. "But you left me no time! No time and I ... I had to do something ... You would have killed them! You would have murdered dozens of elves!"

"It would not have happened if you had not run away, Elethael." The cockatrice gently reprimanded, smiling as Erestor's tear-filled, unbelieving eyes focused on him. "I told you once that your actions have consequences. But it does not help to linger in the past, don't you think so, dearest?"  
A dangerous smile lit the cockatrice's face as he looked down to the darkling in his arms, stroking his pale cheek. "So, Elethael. Will you behave now and promise to tell us of your visions?"

Shaking his head, Erestor pleadingly looked up. "Don't, please don't ..."

"Will you?"

A sob escaped Erestor's lips. "I cannot, you know I cannot. Don't do this!"

The cockatrice smiled as he rubbed the darkling's cheek with one thumb. "Then you leave me no choice." But it did not seem as if he was aggrieved by that at all.

"Leave him alone!" Elladan called up from his place at his brother's side, breaking from the shocked daze that had taken hold of him. He had promised to protect the young ellon and even though he knew he could not change anything at the moment he could not just sit there and watch the cockatrice torment his father's chief advisor.

He had never seen Erestor cry before.

"Erestor just tell them what they want to know. It's not worth it!" And he was sure of that; whatever it was the cockatrice wanted from Erestor, keeping silent was not worth risking it.

The blonde's cold eyes lingered on the elder peredhil twin for some moments with a cold, haughty stare, that was meant to put him in his place and did not fail to have the desired effect; the ominous sparkle in his eyes, framed by the black cloth of his mask sent shivers down Elladan's spine and he instinctively tightened the hold onto his brother.

Not looking away from Elladan, the blonde leaned down to Erestor, his gentle voice caressing an elegantly pointed ear.  
"Marry me, pen velui!"

Elladan wanted to shout at the devilish monster, wanted to thrust his cruelty back into his throat until he would choke on it, as he saw Erestor close his eyes in desperation but those eyes, those steely eyes kept him frozen in his place; and the voice of his twin.

_**** Don't brother! We can't do anything.****_

"Bond with me, my beautiful one, and I will not harm the princes." Smirking the cockatrice bestowed a kiss on the black shock of hair, obviously enjoying the power he held over his captive.

_**** Our father will find us in time. ****_

_**** And if not? ****_

_**** Ada will come. Have faith, Elladan! ****_

But then the cockatrice whispered into Erestor's ear and Erestor looked up to the twins, his face – swollen from tears and marred by bruises – finally becoming the stone mask again.  
_**** I can't. If his healing continues with this rate, he'll be able to walk within some days.****_ And soon after he would be able to bond.

Shocked, Elrohír looked at his brother and then again to Erestor and the cockatrice, helplessly watching as Erestor doomed himself.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
pen velui ~ sweet one  
ada ~ father


	31. Vows

**CHAPTER 31: Vows**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

"Bond with me, my beautiful one, and I will not harm the princes."

The cursed words resounded in Erestor's mind. Then suddenly he could feel his cousin's breath on his bare neck, on his ear and he shivered involuntarily as he heard the deceptively soft whisper. "Refuse me, and I will start with amputating Elrohír's broken arm. It seems to me he does nicely not being able to use it anyway."

Erestor steeled his features though he felt nauseous within. He had long learned that feelings were a weakness and a luxury that he could not afford; they made him vulnerable: he had let Fiondil see that he cared about the twins and now that affection was turned against him.

It was hard to look into the grey pair of appalled faces, that were screaming 'no' at him and keep his mask upright but he was chief advisor, politician, a professional actor. In the end it was all he could still do.

"Obey me, Elethael; respect me ... and I shall see to it that you lack for nothing and in time you shall grow to love me as well."

The dark ellon straightened as much as he was able to, one corner of his mouth raised scarcely perceptible, and his voice was steady and calm as he spoke up.  
"I beg to differ, cousin, but I shall relent nonetheless. Speak your vows then!"

The blonde grinned as he once again pressed a tender kiss on Erestor's scalp, unaware of the burning disgust flickering over his soon-to-be husband's face.

"I take you, Elethael of Greenwood, my sweet cousin, to be my lawfully wedded husband, my constant companion, faithful partner and my true love from this day forward. In the presence of the Valar and our family, I vow to cherish our union and love you more each day than I did the day before. I give you my supporting hand, my faithful heart and my unconditional love, from this day on until Arda ends."

Such loving words. Such pretty lies. Erestor closed his eyes bitterly, not wanting to see the twin's faces as he doomed himself and with his eyes still clenched shut, Erestor started to whisper the dooming vow.

"I, Erestor of Imladris, formerly Elethael of Greenwood take you, my cousin, to be my lawfully wedded husband in the eyes of the fourteen Valar, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better ... or for worse ..."  
His eyes opened, cold and hard, as he looked over his shoulder at his husband to be. He knew it would be for worse.  
"... for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health ... to ... "  
He could not say it: never would he love him, never cherish him. His cousin bowed forward, gently kissing his forehead.  
"... to honour you and support you in your goals; from this day forward until death do us part."

Despite feeling sick to death Erestor smiled bitterly as he turned forward once again. This vow was highly unusual and normally elves did not limit their vows of love and marriage to one life. But Erestor was sure that death would part them soon and under this condition the marriage seemed to be bearable if Elladan and Elrohír survived.

Behind him, his cousin's face distorted in anger and yet he could do nothing to change the already spoken words. Grasping Erestor's chin none too gently he turned him around, ignoring his pained outcry, to take his first kiss from his husband. He pressed his mouth tightly onto Erestor's, seeking only to dominate his unwilling partner. There was neither love, nor passion nor lust in that kiss, only cold revenge and wild fury.  
The advisor whimpered in agony at his cousin's rough treatment, who at one point even touched his broken nose that was still mending. The worst for Erestor, however, was that his husband did this to him in front of the princes of Imladris, and that the anguish was shattering his carefully erected mask of aloofness into millions of sharp pieces, leaving him naked and vulnerable once more.

When the blonde finally loosened his hold on his husband, cold, pitiless eyes locked with Erestor's pain-filled black ones.  
"I love you but if you force me to, I will hurt you, husband of mine."

Erestor closed his eyes in distress, tears running down the sides of his face. He shuddered as he felt the now gentle lips kissing the salty wetness away. His cousin was insane and unpredictable. And that made him highly dangerous.  
"Sshh, darling. I will take care of you. Obey me and I will give you everything you could ever wish for. If you disobey or if you die ... look at me!" he growled "If you choose to die or to disobey, I *will* kill one of the Noldo!"

No one doubted his words.

* * *

Two hours later the party arrived at the small camp, nestled into the rocks at the foot of the Misty Mountains. A group of three elves was already waiting for them with two dozen strong horses. Those were not the elegant horses used by elves, they were tall, strong and sturdy, able to bear the weight of two elves and their luggage and nonetheless go on for long hours.

Elladan helped Erestor and his brother to sit down aside from the others as the Greenwood elves readied the mounts and broke up the camp. He was still somewhat angry and distressed at the happenings earlier and he could feel that Elrohír, too, was having a hard time accepting that Erestor found himself now trapped in a forced marriage because he had wanted to protect them.

The advisor was not even looking into their eyes, his stony gaze staring into nothingness.

Elrohír reached out with his uninjured arm, softly tucking Erestor's unruly hair behind his ears. "Oh, pen idhren. Don't lose hope."  
Looking around and finding no one else near but his brother he leaned closer to whisper in a pointy ear. "Don't let your infamous mask slip now, Erestor. They must not know this: help is coming. We read your letters. Gandalf, the eagles and my whole family including my grand-parents are currently out there trying to save you."

He was surprised as Erestor raised a pale hand to gently touch his cheek and he leaned back to look into the storm grey eyes so full of pain and hopelessness.  
"My husband will kill me, before he lets anyone take me away from him." And then he would kill the princes, too, just as Fiondil had promised.

Elladan moved behind the younger ellon and pulled the advisor close to rest against his chest. "We won't let him harm you, Erestor."

Erestor bit his lip and his eyes were swimming while he did his best to avoid the twin's searching gaze. He already had a plan to free the peredhil but he simply had no idea how to survive this disaster himself.  
For some minutes a heavy silence spread between the three of them until Elladan quietly shook his head. "Why, Erestor? Why didn't you flee these shores when you still could ... or at least tell anyone?"

Elladan watched his brother closely who was sitting in front of Erestor and would monitor the advisor's expression. _**** Why are you asking this? ****_

But the elder prince did not answer his brother. Instead he whispered in Erestor's ears. "Was it all a farce? Did you choose revenge over your life while telling me not to do so?"  
Shocked, Elrohír looked at his brother and then to Erestor, silently begging him to deny the accusation, to not crush the flame in his brother's soul that Erestor himself had sparkled there mere days before.

"I had many reasons. No one is perfect, Elladan, I certainly am not. My reasons included revenge, I admit that." Feeling the ellon behind him stiffen, Erestor turned his head to look at him.  
"But it was the least important."

Looking back to Elrohír, Erestor smiled sadly. "At first I thought the upcoming destruction of Imladris had nothing to do with me and I stayed to prevent it. When I realised that I was the reason ... the two of you had already doomed yourselves. I stayed to save you from your self-destruction and therefore your father; I stayed to be close to that which my heart desired; I stayed so that my uncle could not continue with his evil ways ... and yes, I stayed so that he would someday be judged.  
But I can, want and shall not be there when that happens and I never planned for anyone to get hurt but me."

The twins were silent at that. Would their father truly have died with them? Elladan had never thought about how his actions might affect his family. Yes, Elrond probably would have; and with him their sister.

Elrohír could feel his brother's regret and grief and he reached out for him in his mind, trying to give what comfort he could lend. Gratefully Elladan smiled at his brother and let him feel that he was alright.  
Then he tightened his hold around Erestor and affectionately nudged his black shock of hair. "What did you mean, pen idhren ... when you said you wished to stay close to what your heart desired?"

Smirking Elrohír rolled his eyes. _**** Perfect, Elladan. I have never seen him blush that furiously! ****_But aloud he spoke to Erestor with a teasing tinge to his voice "I have often heard that Imladris inspired love ..."

"I am ... well ... it is not as if ..."

Chuckling, Elladan disrupted the normally eloquent chief advisor, happy that they had successfully distracted him from their current situation. "Now tell us, who is the lucky one?"

Maybe if he would have seen Erestor's face he had stopped there but as the advisor still sat with his back resting against his chest he was not aware of the shame filled expression.

_**** Ah, Elladan ... ****_Elrohír tried to caution.

"Tell us, gwador! We won't laugh, I promise."

"I don't think ..."

"It's not one of us, is it?"Elladan asked, suddenly concerned at the reluctance. He had really thought that Lindir would be the one holding the darkling's heart.

"No, it isn't."  
The twins exchanged a worried look at the defeated tone.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to press you." Elladan murmured.

"It's your father."  
Erestor clenched his eyes shut, not wanting to see the twin's revulsion. But the words had needed out somehow; never before in all his life had Erestor shared this with another soul and now that everything was coming to an end ...

Aghast, the twins looked at the quiet dark ellon who had slumped down in Elladan's arms. Immediately the elder prince freed one of his hands and stroked over the black tresses comfortingly.  
"Oh pen idhren, fate was truly cruel to you. I'm sorry."

Erestor snorted mirthlessly the moment that he realised that his first thought was actually about telling his lord that his legal successor was in desperate need of some extra lessons in diplomacy and sense of tact.

"Ignore Elladan, Erestor; you know how he is. But gwador, tell me is it ada or Glorfindel?"

"Both I guess. Maybe 'tis just an infatuation then ... how could one truly fall in love with two at once?"  
It was a meaningless excuse only to soften the harsh judgement he expected from the twins and to comfort himself. 'And yet I feel my heart suffocating.'  
Lowering his head Erestor tried to will away his tears, not wanting his husband to see them later on.

"I wished they would love you back."

Surprised Erestor looked back at Elladan; and lost the fight against his tears.  
"Hey, be still now. You don't want them to see you cry, do you?" The elder twin whispered, feeling a little bit out of his depth.

As he started stroking Erestor's white cheek, Elladan's hand was suddenly grasped in a cruel unyielding grip. "Who are to love him back?"

"That is none of your concern!" Elladan sneered at the cockatrice, who narrowed his eyes dangerously in response.

"He is my husband and I will *not* share him. And you" he spat angrily, twisting the half-elf's arms nearly painfully "if I ever see you touch him so intimately again, I will end your sorry existence!"

"Cousin!" Erestor hissed dangerously, his voice still thick with tears. "Don't you forget your promise, your wedding gift to me! You shall not lay a finger on the princes of Imladris or there won't be a bonding ceremony!"

The cold, calculating eyes hushed from Elladan to Erestor, searching the advisor's face, wondering if he could still prevent the bonding. Long moments passed as the wedded pair fought their own battle of wills.  
At last the blonde gave a curt nod to indicate that he had taken his husband's point. "Very well, dearest. But you shall not speak to them again and they won't touch you except when treating your injuries. You're mine, this is what *you* should never forget!"  
The words were calmly spoken but there was no doubt that harsh punishment would follow an infringement of these new rules.

And with that the cockatrice knelt and picked his slim husband up. With a last warning look to the twins he carried the black haired ellon over to the horses and lowered him onto one of the litters.

_**** I know I promised to keep my temper in check, but right know I desire nothing more than to strangle him to death! ****_

_**** Don't worry, Elladan, this one time I agree with you: he deserves a rather painful and certainly not swift exit from Middle Earth. And I hope Dírhael is going to make his stay in Námo's Halls as gruesome as possible. ****_

_**** And I will see to it that this devil is going to watch Erestor, happily united with the ones he loves, woven in Vaire's tapestries! ****_ If they survived this chaos, Elladan would make sure, Erestor ended up in his father's and in Glorfindel's arms, by all available means!

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
pen idhren ~ wise one  
gwador ~ sworn brother


	32. Duty

**CHAPTER 32: Duty**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Lindir sat alone between the rose bushes in Imladris' gardens, having fled the many questioning elves that once he had called friends with utter conviction until he had forcefully pulled Erestor into his narrow circle of friends; and soon he noticed – very much surprised that he was not upset – that this circle had shrunken to the size of one person only.

Friendship, true friendship was so rare, so precious; and now that he was about to lose it those vultures had nothing better to do than to pelt him with questions about Faelon, the kidnapping, the happenings on the High Pass, Galadriel's motives ... as if he would know anything of the lady's intentions.

"Are you feeling better?"

Lindir looked around to see Haldir standing in front of the large bush, his hand ghosting over the petals of a champagne-coloured rose while he smiled down at the young minstrel.

He knew that Haldir referred to the incident on the breakfast table that morning, when Lindir had very brusquely and very unexpectedly snubbed some of his fellow elves and literally ran from the silent and stunned table.

"I just felt crowded."  
And he was still somewhat shaken by his kidnapping as well although he didn't want to admit that in front of the experienced marchwarden.

But Haldir merely smiled at him, seemingly understanding his emotional turmoil. "Might I then suggest that someone with so fair a hair colour as yours would do better not to hide between plants with such dark leaves like these roses? A group of birches seems to be a more appropriate choice."

Quickly Lindir looked away to hide his blushing cheeks. Somehow he seemed to do everything wrong when in the company of the tall warrior.  
"I like it here." He murmured maybe a little bit defensively and crawled out of the small thorn protected sanctuary, coming to stand before Haldir.

"I know." Still smiling the silver haired ellon leaned forward to disentangle a dry leaf from a white strand of Lindir's tousled hair while the minstrel observed the other's face, the somehow sad smile. "What troubles you, my friend?"

Shaking his head, Haldir looked back to the main house. "I wanted to inform you that your lord's soldiers have returned."

"That is not causing your concern, is it?"

"The traitor they brought has managed to drug himself with water of the Enchanted River, too."

Frowning, Lindir took hold of the other's shoulder to turn him around and face him. "But that doesn't matter ... we know who did it, we already know enough! I don't see a problem there ..."

Gravely Haldir fixed his eyes on Lindir's. "Think, Lindir! Drinking the water will make them sleep for a week and cause a memory loss for another month or two. After that we could still have interrogated them and then Brandon would have been caught.  
They were stalling for time, trying to withhold important information long enough so that we could be silenced ..."  
A heavy sigh escaped the Galadhrim as he gave the white haired minstrel some time to understand what he had just said. "Galadriel thinks that Imladris will be attacked within the next month."

"A-attacked?" Lindir stuttered "By whom?"

With a shrug Haldir turned to the main house again. "I will support Telchar in leading Imladris' soldiers with my brothers."

"NO! You cannot leave!" It was too dangerous out there if the valley was about to be attacked. Now that Erestor would maybe never return he needed someone to hold on to. And there was no one else but the serious marchwarden he wanted to do that, to hold him.

But there it was yet again, that gentle, almost sad smile that somehow put distance between them. "We are lady Galadriel's hands. She sees, she plans and we act. That's the way it is."

An axiomatic truth. Unbreakable. Absolute.  
Despite his artistic disposition and romantic nature Lindir was realistic enough to realise that. Besides, he knew Haldir only for some days. They were not friends; and he had not the right to lean on him. Haldir certainly had enough chores and problems to deal with.

Forcing all emotions from his voice and countenance he faced the other again. "I understand that. Just ... take care."  
One day he would replace that sad smile with laughter, light and happy and silvery.

"Promise. You too." And with that Haldir left the rose gardens, heading for the main house.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf


	33. Lalaith's son

**CHAPTER 33: Lalaith's son**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Galadriel stood on one of Imladris' balconies, looking towards the mountains in the east behind which her son-in-law was riding north with her cousin, desperately trying to find Erestor in time; and there was nothing she could do for them now.  
To add to her worries it seemed that her grandsons where still somewhere out there in the harsh Misty Mountains and Elrond had not heard from them yet.

As if that wasn't enough the fact that both spies had drunken water from the Enchanted River to delay an interrogation for some weeks was greatly troubling Galadriel, for it meant that those depraved ellyn were certain that the elven lords and ladies would then not be able to find Erestor even with the information the spies could provide them and moreover – that Imladris would then no longer be a threat to the culprits.  
But Galadriel knew not yet what to do about that threat. She had concentrated Imladris' troops behind the River and watched the lands beyond it constantly but aside from that she could do nothing without her mirror.

Sometimes waiting was the hardest of her she felt another presence entering the area that she protected with her sharp mind. Thoughtfully she tilted her head, trying to establish a connection.  
Something mighty, a radiant light had entered. One of the Maiar.

Gandalf.

And the greatest of the great eagles, lord Gwaihir.

_****Gandalf. What are the wisest of the Maiar and the lord of birds doing here in Imladris? ****_

_****Probably the same that the lady of the Golden Wood is doing in the Last Homely House: they seek to protect and acquire information, Galadriel. ****_

_**** I have no time for these games, Gandalf the grey.****_ She said calmly, careful to not let him feel her unrest through the mental connection she had established.

_**** Neither have I, dear friend. ****_

Galadriel sighed. If she wanted to get anywhere with that old Maia she would have to offer him something first, it seemed.

_**** Elrond is on his way to Mirkwood to save Erestor. ****_

_**** I know. Your grandsons told me as much when I found them in the Misty Mountains, following his tracks. ****_

_**** My grandsons? Tell me then: are they well? We are in concern! ****_

_**** Do not worry: I sent them back to Imladris, but they will need some days to arrive. I have grave news for you, Galadriel. ****_

_**** Then come hither and be fast. ****_

Only an hour later Galadriel heard gasps and shouts from the Elves in the courtyard as they saw what she had seen long before them: one of the great eagles flying towards them.  
Galadriel stood back as Gwaihir landed gracefully on the balcony and she bowed deeply in respect.

"Gwaihir, lord of eagles! Every day I thank Manwë for the protection you have extended on us."

"Greetings to you, daughter of Finarfin."

Galadriel inclined her head before she turned to Gandalf who had somewhat awkwardly dismounted. Why that old wizard always tried to fool everyone with his pretended weakness was beyond her. Surely it had its advantages to be underestimated but Galadriel considered it to be arduous and unnerving to keep up such a façade.

"And welcome to you, old friend. Tell me now what grave news brought you here?"

"My eagles have seen soldiers from Angmar gather in the north and I brought Gandalf." The eagle cried.  
Galadriel looked with shock from one to the other. When Gandalf had said that he had grave news for her she had not thought them to be that bad.

Gandalf then proceeded with telling Galadriel what the twins had told him and how they had parted. He described the gathering of the Orcs and how he had decided to come to Imladris to see what Galadriel had found out in the meantime.  
Galadriel listened to the old Maia's tale with growing disbelieve. Valar, she had underestimated Erestor. The shock showed clearly on her beautiful face.

The wizard examined her. Galadriel looked weary. She had obviously not slept well for some time. For someone who had seen as much as she had in her long life, that was indeed something remarkable.  
"So he somehow persuaded those Orcs to march against Imladris' enemies?"

Gandalf nodded.

"And I thought he had left Imladris defenceless."  
She took a steadying breath and looked towards the Misty Mountains.

"And did you find out more about the mastermind?" Gandalf asked as the lady of the Golden Wood fell silent.

"His name is Brandon, an advisor in Thranduil's court. It seems that he is Erestor's uncle on the maternal side."

Though Galadriel was still facing away from her guests she immediately felt that something was wrong and she turned around and saw that Gandalf had paled visibly.  
"Mellonen?"

"Go on, please. I ... just didn't know that Brandon had another sister." The old wizard murmured, feeling numb and cold.

Galadriel raised one elegant eyebrow but left it be when Gandalf shook his head slightly, indicating that he wasn't inclined to reveal his reasons. She would never intrude upon the innermost feelings of her long-time friend and so she simply complied with his wish.  
"Erestor left a letter that contained his history ... but I should get Lindir as he is the only one having read said letter for it was destroyed." The wizard had always preferred to inspect for himself rather than getting his information by listening to hearsay.

And so Galadriel sent for Lindir and some refreshments for her guests. Soon at least half a dozen servants entered, carrying water for the great eagle lord and meat; a lighter meal of bread, fruits, cheese and wine for Gandalf. And while the two lords ate, Galadriel told them about the happenings in Imladris since she had arrived, the wizard listening in outward calmness. She was just finishing her recount of Lindir's kidnapping when a knock alerted them of the minstrel's arrival.

"My lady, I apologize for my tardiness. I was in the gardens and not easily to be found, I'm afraid." The white haired young ellon blushed slightly at being caught hiding in the rose-bushes once again.  
"Lord Mithrandir, lord Gwaihir." He bowed deeply in front of the ancient beings.

"Rise, pen neth, and enter! Gandalf needs to ask some questions about Erestor's letters." Galadriel smiled at him encouragingly.  
Slowly approaching the balcony Lindir became more than uncomfortable for reasons he could not really name. Maybe it was the age, wisdom and power of the three waiting there, maybe he didn't want them all to know about Erestor's innermost thoughts. The two letters in question – the one for Thalion and the one for himself – were highly private.

But it seemed that Gandalf was more than impatient. "Lindir, might I have a look at the remaining letter?"

The minstrel bit his lip but nodded as he took out the parchment. "Of course, master Olórin. Though I don't know what news you expect to find. We already know who is behind it. And there is no name in it but the one of Erestor's mother."

Lindir frowned in confusion. There was something in Gandalf's eyes, a shocked ... disbelief and he somehow had the feeling that the wizard was not searching for news exactly but for something else, a confirmation or a counter evidence of some unspecific, nameless fear.

"Give it to me, please."

And Lindir held the letter out for Gandalf to take who all but snatched it out of his hand and unfolded it with swift movements. A confused look was exchanged between Galadriel and Lindir and even Gwaihir didn't seem to know what drove the old wizard.

After only some moments of quiet reading all colour seemed to drain from Gandalf's countenance and his wrinkled face became stone. His eyes flew over the lines and his breathing seemed laboured somehow. As she observed her friend, Galadriel wondered what exactly had shocked the old wizard like that.

Finally the Maia folded the letter and turned to Galadriel, for one moment he seemed close to fainting. "Just how old exactly is Erestor?"

Galadriel was confused at the strange question and she turned to Lindir for help.

The young ellon stepped forward. "No one knows how old he is *exactly*. He never told anyone. This year he celebrated his 405 birthday but that is not his real age."

Gandalf narrowed his eyes. "Then guess, how old is he?"  
Galadriel looked at her friend in disbelief. Since when did that wizard settle for guesses?

Lindir nervously looked to Galadriel, wishing to know what went on in the suddenly single-minded Maia. What had Erestor's exact age to do with solving their current problems?  
"He must be between ... 445 and 452 ... or 453 years old. He celebrates the day that he was found by captain Thalion of Mirkwood ..."

Galadriel frowned. Gandalf seemed to be frozen in time, his grey, watery eyes looking down to the letter in his hand, ghosting over the words.  
"What does this mean, Mithrandir?"

"Erestor's mother ... Lalaith."  
Gandalf spoke the name so softly, so full of regret ...  
Suddenly Galadriel's eyes widened in realisation. "You knew her."

The mirthless laugh made her frown even harder. "Oh I knew Lalaith alright ... and as she died 446 years ago Erestor must be around that age.  
I left her a year before she died and she had no child then ..." Crumpling the paper in his hands Gandalf looked to the blond elleth in front of him, his eyes filled with tears. Galadriel shook her head in denial, somehow knowing what Gandalf was about to tell her.

"You must be mistaken!"

"We were lovers, Galadriel! I left her to travel ... I had things to take care off. I wanted to come back and take her with me then, take her to Imladris, away from her family ... they were rather ... taxing ... sometimes. But when I returned, they told me that she had drowned in the Enchanted River."  
He frowned to keep his tears at bay. Lalaith had been such a special elleth. Beautiful in her own way, charming, loving ... in thousands of years that he had spent on Arda nothing had hurt this much. No pain had been this hard to bear.  
He had been tempted to return to Aman then, only to be able to see her, talk to her fae in Námo's halls, even if he could not touch her ever again. But he had stayed, for his tasks on Middle Earth were far from being fulfilled.

To know that she had left a bit of her in this world, in the shape of a small elfling ... that this one had suffered alone, never knowing who he was ... that he could have prevented it ...

Lindir watched from Gandalf to Galadriel, mouth and eyes wide open in shock. The old wizard had to be kidding, that just could not be true.

"He is your son then? You want to tell me that you sired Erestor?" Galadriel exclaimed flabbergasted.

Gandalf cocked his head, his eyes roaming the room, his mouth searching for the answer. "She would not have betrayed me."

"Sweet Elbereth!"

Standing suddenly, Gandalf spoke up with a voice like thunder, the crumbled letter in his fist "I will take this, Galadriel. Brandon will wish he had never meddled in the affairs of a Maiar!"  
He turned to the great eagle standing on the balcony. "Gwaihir, if you are willing to bear my weight a while longer, we should find your brother, see if he has found Erestor and then immediately fly to Mirkwood in case he has not."

The great eagle fluttered a little bit. Truth be told his wings were weary and he longed to rest but he could see the urgency in Gandalf's bearing. The wizard was wise and knew what needed to be done and the lord of eagles trusted him.

"I will carry you, Olórin. To Mirkwood and beyond, if you think it necessary."

"Thank you, my friend."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

elleth ~ female elf  
ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves  
mellonen ~ my friend  
pen neth ~ little one


	34. Bring Them Down

**CHAPTER 34: Bring Them Down**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Again and again the eagle's wings beat in a steady rhythm up and down, the strong muscles flexing beneath Gandalf's legs. Gwaihir felt the wizard's knees pressing tightly, almost painfully, against his neck; but he allowed it, understanding his friend's distress.

Looking back for a moment, Gwaihir considered the sun's position where it was flooding the lands in the west with a golden light, having passed its zenith two hours ago. They were making good time, already having reached the upper parts of the Misty Mountains. And yet they would need another two days to reach Thranduil's halls.

Stretching his stiff neck Gwaihir emitted a series of high-pitched, clear cries to alert other eagles that might be hunting anywhere near. His voice whipped through the cold air and it would be heard over many miles from any of his kin. Every great eagle hunting near would immediately be alerted and follow their lord's summoning. Already three had joined them, flying now in a v-formation with Gwaihir at the tip. Another two he had sent back to their nesting place so that the threat of humans and Orcs could be dealt with.

The eagle lord had not expected his call to be returned, however.

Surprised he immediately cried out again, a complex series of high pitched notes and his head turned slightly as he strained to hear the answer again, identify it's source. He was not disappointed as a similar call was carried over the wind to his sensitive ears.  
"Olórin, there is one of my kin down there. Hold on tight!"

It was all the warning the old wizard got before Gwaihir donned his huge wings and descended towards the jagged mountainside down into a narrow valley, framed by rocky, iced scarps. But soon Gandalf spotted a brown patch between the monotony of grey and white, just as he heard the eagles cry out in anger.  
There in the cold snow on a small ledge, Landroval looked up to them, one of his wings drawn close to his body, the right one spread out, bend in an odd angle where his heavy fall from the cliff had shattered the light bone.

Opening their wings just in time the four eagles landed close to their fallen friend although the ledge the injured bird sat on was too small for two of the huge eagles.

"Landroval!" Gwaihir cried. "What happened?"  
The eagle lord had well seen the orcish arrow shaft in his brother's broken wing. But he could not imagine his sharp eyed brother having been surprised by those foul creatures. Or had it happened while fulfilling the task he himself had set him?

"Silvan Elves abducted the seer and the Elrondyn!"

Gandalf felt his heart skip a beat at hearing that news. He had hoped Erestor would be save by now and on his way to Imladris on Landroval's strong back and not towards Greenwood and death, if Galadriel was right, and he had no reason to doubt the Finarfiniel.  
"I will climb over to you, Landroval." He announced and, with a speed and agility belying his aged appearance, Gandalf climbed down from Gwaihir's back and along the rocky mountain side towards the small ledge the injured eagle occupied.

Carefully the old wizard set his foot on the slippery stones and steadied himself with one hand on Landroval's shoulder as he crouched down beneath the outspread wing to examine the fracture and the arrow wound.  
"Oh, my friend ... I am no healer and the fracture is bad. I won't be able to set it properly. But I shall remove the arrow and clean the wound to the best of my ability."

And while Gandalf was treating the injury that had trapped the great eagle on the ledge, Landroval told them about the Silvan elves and how they had captured his three elven companions.  
"The seer will soon be dead. The wounds were too severe to survive such a journey." He cried, looking to his elder brother."

"Don't say that!" Gandalf said sharply. "Maia blood flows in his veins. If he has survived his wounds for half a day in your grip, flying in the cold air, he will survive now that the twin sons of Elrond are with him. But the situation is dire, indeed."  
Cocking his head the injured eagle observed the wizard with one sharp eye, but ere he had the chance to give voice to the questions that statement roused, his elder brother spoke up.

"And I cannot accompany you further, Olórin. I will return to Imladris and beg a healer's help for my brother. Meneldor will stay with Landroval and protect him until my return." Gwaihir looked to the young eagle that sat on a rock above him. Meneldor was agile and swift and he would guard his brother well.

"But I would ask the help of your other companions, nonetheless" Gandalf started and he roughly indicated in the direction where the two other great eagles sat, "for I need to travel swiftly to Mirkwood and to Thranduil's halls, if I am to save my son."

At this the eagles except for Gwaihir looked to their lord in surprise but stayed silent as Gwaihir gave a curt nod.  
"They will carry you to whatever destination, yet I will not allow them to attack a Firstborn unless shot at; we are to protect Illúvatar's children, not kill them. But tell Thranduil that I expect severe punishment for those that injured my brother so!"

"I will tell him that, my friend, though we might find that the true culprit was not the one shooting the arrow." The wizard tried to caution.

"Olórin! I care not. They would have left my brother here to die. Bring them down!"

Slowly the Maia nodded. There was no need in fuelling the eagle's wrath further in his current state especially since he knew that Gwaihir spoke out of concern and fear for his brother.

Only minutes later the two old friends parted ways again, Gwaihir soaring into the setting sun in the west towards the Hidden Valley far below them, Gandalf flying east into the ascending darkness of the night.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

Elrondyn ~ sons of Elrond  
Finarfiniel ~ daughter of Finarfin


	35. The Mad Scene 1

**CHAPTER 35: The Mad Scene 1**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
Please take the chapter title as a warning of some sort.

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

_**** This is ... a miracle! ****_

_**** You said that before ... ****_

_**** It is impossible ... unbelievable! ****_

_**** Yet it is happening.****_

_**** How can this be? He should not be able to sit up, let alone walk!****_

Elladan nodded as he watched Erestor walk around the camp completely without help _**** I think he might not be elven. ****_

After bonding with his cousin two days before, Erestor had healed even faster and when Elladan had examined him this morning he was completely astonished to find the broken bones mended and the severe injuries closed. The tissue was still tender and red, the freshly mended fractures still sensitive to the touch and yet ... Erestor had healed ten times as fast as he should have if he had been a normal elf; merely four days before the twins had pulled him back from the brink of death, after all.

_**** But if he is no elf, what then is he? ****_

_**** I don't know, muindor, I don't know.****_

Bitterly Elladan looked to the Mirkwood elves that were currently busying themselves with preparing a meagre breakfast and breaking the camp from the night before. At one side Erestor's husband sat on a large rock, his eyes greedily raking over the young darkling's frame.  
Erestor was indeed healing too fast, Elladan thought by himself; if the blonde wanted to, he could now complete the bond with the advisor at any time and if the way he was looking at his hervenn was any indication, he was eager to do just that.

* * *

Fiondil was immensely glad to see Erestor on his feet again. After bonding with him the darkling's injuries healed quickly as the life energy of his husband strengthened him further; and with the blood of a Maia running through his veins, his wounds had closed with unnatural speed, the broken bones had mended.

Fiondil watched with delight as his Elethael's beauty came to light once again. A frail dark beauty that kindled in him the desire to possess the other like no one had before and ever would. This body belonged to him now, this soul was his, never to be parted from his fae again. Once they were in Greenwood and he had claimed his hervenn, no force would ever separate them.  
Smirking, he observed the lithe pale creature.

Up to now, the abduction had not quite happened according to plan, but nonetheless it had been successful. The human army had probably been roughed up by the Orcs at this moment and Imladris was unharmed which would please his husband ...  
But there were many obstacles he now faced due to Erestor's recalcitrant behaviour: If only an advisor had vanished without a trace, they might have gotten away with it, more so as Thranduil disliked the Noldor and would have unwittingly supported them. But with the princes of Imladris now being in his keep, Elrond and more importantly Galadriel would soon search every corner of Middle Earth and spare neither trouble nor expense to find them. As both elves were gifted seers themselves, there would ever be the possibility of them finding the kidnapped elves.

Thoughtfully, Fiondil cocked his head. He would probably need to find the source of the spell lying on the Enchanted River, the spell that could let every being fall into sweet oblivion. And maybe there was a way for erasing certain memories forever?  
For the time being they would use a shortcut and directly head for the northern parts of Mirkwood, crossing the dense forest cross-country. Hopefully this would lend Fiondil enough time to hide his beautiful hervenn before anyone could question his whereabouts.

His hervenn Elethael. The darkling had proven his strength, proven that he could now take a high dose of the drug and interpret his visions accordingly. He would put that ability to good use soon. But first he planned to put that pretty body to good use.

"Come hither, Elethael." He begged the dark haired Elf. Erestor limped towards his husband, knowing better than to defy him. He had not spoken since Fiondil had forbidden him any contact to the peredhil, though, punishing the elf that loved him with silence; Erestor knew he was being childish, but at least it made him feel better.

The chief advisor was now clothed in the greens of Mirkwood. Hooded, no one would notice him enter the realm of the Woodland Elves when they were with him. Fiondil liked to see the colours on his darkling, enhancing his ethereal beauty and foremost underlying the fact that Elethael was once more where he belonged to. And in three days he would be safe in the little refuge they had prepared for him.

Then the other silently stood before him, his appearance and cold expression screaming of detestation. Smiling, the blond sneaked both arms around the waist of the much smaller ellon.

"Don't be angry with me anymore, love. You don't know what it means to me to finally see you again in the colours of Greenwood."  
He took the advisors chin and raised it, making the dark silver eyes meet his blue ones. Gently he took the soft lips in a loving kiss. Tasting them with his tongue, seeking entrance that he was not granted, he wished his hervenn would overcome his childish anger and embrace what they shared. He moaned against the lips, his anger slowly increasing due to the impassiveness and coldness of Elethael. He could as well have been kissing a statue if not for the wonderful taste that luscious mouth provided.

Suddenly Erestor drew back, pushing his husband away, pulling with him one of the long Mirkwood knifes that the blond had tied to his belt. With a few graceful steps he brought himself out of reach from the other Elves who were jumping to their feet, all unsteadiness vanished from his movements.

Erestor took a fighting stance, keeping an eye on his relatives who were slowly circling him, imploring him to lay down his knife.  
"Lay it down, Elethael."  
"No one will hurt you."  
"Everything is alright."  
"You are among family, Elethael."  
"Drop it."

The blond warriors closed in on him, trying to calm him, to make him lower the long Mirkwood knife. Quickly Erestor put the knife to his throat, his expression serious and dangerously calm.  
"Stay away, or I will kill myself! And do not touch the twins!" Erestor added venomously as he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, effectively stopping the Greenwood elves from using the peredhil against him.

"Give me the knife, Elethael, you cannot leave. You know we cannot let you go." Fiondil rounded, approaching his hervenn calmly even as Erestor slowly walked backwards, evading him. The younger ellon let his gaze flicker to the twins, taking in their shocked faces and then back to the elven warriors that were closing in on him, their hands raised reassuringly.

"Stay away! Everyone in front of me where I can see you." Erestor's voice was calm with an authoritative edge to it and Elladan almost shivered. It was exactly the tone Erestor used to address the council members in Imladris, that cold voice that betrayed no emotion and left no room for objections or disobedience.  
Pulling his brother up, the elder twin tried to back away from the other Mirkwood elves; slowly, carefully slinking back. He could feel the blond elven warriors monitoring his retreat as well as Erestor but no one dared to stop him, it seemed.

Then suddenly two of the Greenwood elves grabbed the twins from behind, and with one pained and one startled outcry they were drawn against solid chests, knifes at their throat.

"Let them go!" Erestor ordered, still outwardly calm as he watched the twins struggling against their captors. But inside he felt his heart beat in his throat, trying to suffocate him. 'A Elbereth!'  
He didn't want to die ... but if he gave in now, Fiondil would certainly punish the twins for his defiance. No, this was his only chance to save the peredhil, all four of them.

"I told you, Elethael, that I would punish them if you disobeyed. Now I order you to lower your weapon!"

"And I told you to not touch them!" Erestor hissed as he drew the knife over his throat with a quick movement, his eyes flaring with a frantic determination. Someone cried out "Stop him!" and the Greenwood elves were pulled from their shocked rigour and in one fluid movement they jumped forward ...

"STOP!" Erestor's shout whipped through the air, freezing the blond warriors in their run. A small, insane smile played over the darkling's lips as he enjoyed that first triumph over his former tormentors, the thrill numbing the sharp pain spreading from the shallow cut in his throat. His eyes were fixed on his blond husband who had stretched out his arms to keep his comrades behind him.

"The next cut shall be deeper, husband of mine!"

The blond ellon slowly lowered his arms and he breathed heavily as if he had run quite a distance. "Let them go!" he spoke clearly into the silence, forced to relent by the fear of losing the one they had fought for, the one he loved.

Behind him the twins were released from their captor's bruising grips and immediately Elladan drew an arm around Elrohír's chest to support him; still no one dared to move.

"What do you want, Elethael?"

"I want you to let them leave, they have not seen your faces, they have not heard your names; and they shall promise to return to Imladris without delay and never search for me nor tell anyone of what they witnessed this last week."

"Oh no, we won't Erestor!"

For a moment Erestor's eyes turned black with anguish as they flickered to Elladan, Nay the twins had to leave!  
He turned his dark orbs away from the twins, letting them go cold, building his mask against them, directing his spiteful gaze at his husband instead. "Don't be stupid, my prince. There will come the day when I will not be able to obey my husband's orders and he will kill you then to make me."

Gravely Fiondil shook his head, still trying to appease his distraught husband. "I wouldn't, my love. I would never hurt you so."

Sneering, Erestor raised his chin, showing more of the slash in his throat and the red curtain that fell from it, glistening in the pale morning light. "Oh you would have, dearest, believe me. Elladan, go to the horses and take one for yourself and your brother!"

The urgent tone finally permeated to Elladan and looking into the counsellor's eyes he suddenly understood that Erestor was not only blackmailing his husband, but also the twins: if Elladan did not comply then the cockatrice would surely punish him or – more likely – his brother for the advisor's disobedience, might even kill one of them.

'Ever the one in control.' Elladan thought, a shiver running down his spine. Giving a curt nod the elder twin turned to his brother. _**** Elrohír, come with me. ****_

_**** Elladan, we cannot ... he will ... they will ... ****_

Tightening his hold on his stupefied twin, Elladan tried to pull the other with him as he moved towards the horses, carefully watching the elves around them. But Elrohír was not yet ready to relinquish, trying to shake off his brother.

_**** Damn it, Elrohír! Come on. ****_ Elladan beseeched his brother, Erestor's words resounding in his ears: 'Oh, you would have', would have killed him, killed his brother. He had no doubt that Erestor had seen the killing in one of his visions; now he needed to get Elrohír away. _**** He is doing this to save us, don't let it be in vain, Elrohír. ****_

_**** But we cannot leave him alone! ****_Elrohír exclaimed but nevertheless complied as Elladan pushed him towards the horses. Both were surprised as the Mirkwood elves stood by, silently glaring at them, but letting them leave.

_**** He will be fine. ****_

Those blond elves were doing everything in their power to get Erestor to Mirkwood, safe and sound. The darkling was no being to them but a weapon, and they would not touch him. _**** And we will follow them at some distance. We won't leave him alone. ****_

Sparing Erestor one last glance and receiving a curt nod, Elladan helped his brother onto one of the sturdy horses. "We promise to abide by Erestor's conditions."

Raising his chin the cockatrice sneered at them in barely controlled anger.  
"You'd better. We have our eyes and ears everywhere, young prince; it won't redound to Elethael's advantage if you forget your vow."

Nodding Elladan urged his horse on, his heart hammering in his breast. They were not yet away, the moment Erestor's concentration waned the Mirkwood elves would disarm the advisor and shoot the fleeing twins down. _**** Come on, Elrohír! Ride fast! ****_

Hoping he would be able to ignore the searing pain in his leg and arm, Elrohír spurred his horse into a full gallop, followed by his twin and they did not stop until their kidnappers were well out of sight.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

muindor ~ brother  
fae ~ spirit  
hervenn ~ husband  
peredhil ~ half elves  
ellon ~ male elf  
A Elbereth! ~ O Elbereth!


	36. The Mad Scene 2

**CHAPTER 36: The Mad Scene 2**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Minutes passed, but it could have been an eternity as the Mirkwood elves still stood in a loose circle around Erestor, every muscle tense.

"They are gone, now, Elethael. Lay it down!" the cockatrice addressed his mate, his voice still soothing as if speaking to a spooked animal.

Erestor stayed silent, contemplating the situation. This was his one escape chance; he wouldn't get another. He could escape to Mandos' halls once and for all or he could stay with his husband, with Fiondil.

"I never said I would." He said, hoping his voice would sound cool and aloof. Somewhere out there Elrond and Glorfindel were searching for him, trying to save him.

He pressed the knife against his throat, drawing more blood even as his breathing hitched traitorously. Erestor was afraid of this kind of death and immediately Dírhael came to his mind, his adoptive father who had died choking on his own blood.

"Elethael!" Fiondil growled and took a step towards his husband.

"Stay away! I will kill myself!" Erestor hoped that his voice did not sound as trembling and insecure as it did to him.  
'you wanted to die! Do it!' He told himself.  
The hand holding the long Mirkwood knife started to shake visibly now. Could he really take his own life? All those years he had known that he would die, wished his misery would finally end. 'Do it! Coward!'  
A sob escaped his trembling lips.

Fiondil saw tears running down his cousin's face and in that very moment he knew that Erestor would – could – not do it.

_~He sidestepped his cousin, inflicting a superficial cut to his back just as Fiondil passed him. Immediately the blond turned and raised his arm to attack again. A small smile showed on Erestor's face as he swung his knife to counter his husband's weapon. He loosened the grip on his knife and as his cousin inflicted the next blow he let the weapon knock his own out of his hand, let it come down on him without trying to stop the blow.  
The blade cut deeply into his chest, ripping it open.  
There was a scream; he did not know where it came from. Just as he sank to the ground, Fiondil let go of his blade, a horrified expression marring his face.~_

"You do not want to die, love. Let go of the knife."Fiondil stepped closer and raised one steady hand to reach for the weapon, searching Erestor's gaze. There was a gleam there, a sudden serenity.

"You are right: I would rather live ... but not like this. I want to fight with you, Fiondil! Now!" He could not kill himself ... but there was still Fiondil to take that task and as Fiondil would never survive killing his precious Elethael ... this would literally kill two birds with one stone.

The elves around them gasped. "No! Don't!" An ellon called out.

"I am not the frightened youth that ran away centuries ago. I have learned to fight. My will and endurance have grown. I am superior now, cousin. And I will not let myself be enslaved again." He called to Fiondil with hate and disgust, knowing it to be a lie: Fiondil was stronger and he was still healing; there was just no chance for him to win.  
"Raise your knife and best me now or I will kill myself! If you win, I will be yours willingly, as long as you are not overly cruel; but if I win, you will let me go and I promise to never breathe a word of what you did."

Fiondil approached slowly, his face indifferent. But he heard the centuries of hate, rage and vindictiveness that had built up in his hervenn.

He drew his other knife. "I always loved you, Elethael. I only wished you could see that."

"If you loved me, you would never have kidnapped me, threatened those I care about."

The blond narrowed his eyes. "You are wrong. It is because I cannot be without you, that I did all that. Four long centuries I yearned to have you in my arms again."

"Stop it, the two of you. This will end in blood and death." Another ellon tried, but they were careful not to get too close to Erestor. The darkling would make true on his threat and cut his own throat.

"Not if he beats me. Come on *husband of mine*" he sneered "This is your only chance to get what you desire."

Fiondil let the knife rotate in his hand and attacked with an indifferent expression. He did not want to injure his husband in any way, especially since Erestor was still recovering and his movements were directed to these tactics: Instead of attacking in earnest, he only blocked Erestor's furious blows and tried to exhaust his opponent.

Erestor attacked with such velocity and strength that Fiondil was taken aback however. The darkling was well-trained and a good fighter even though he was still recovering from his numerous injuries. Erestor managed to drive his cousin back and the blond realised that he had underestimated his husband severely.

Erestor leaped forward, bending his lithe form and thrust his knife upwards. Fiondil turned sideways and tried to get his knife to block the stab in time, but he did not quite succeed, the blade sliding along his ribcage, cutting not deep, but deep enough to hurt.  
Fiondil heard the gasps and hisses of his family but did not pay them any attention. Damn, he would have to attack harder. If he kept back any longer the advisor might just manage to kill him in his rage.

With a series of hard blows the blond ellon drove his black haired opponent back, the younger elf gasping in obvious pain as he had to fend off the strokes. The injuries in his shoulder and abdomen were throbbing painfully under the onslaught.  
But then he sidestepped his cousin, inflicting another cut to his back, when Fiondil passed him. The blond turned and raised his arm to attack again. Erestor swung his weapon to counter his cousin's knife, the blow easy to parry.

Just in time Fiondil felt that something was wrong. Erestor's eyes sparkled in triumph and over the weak bond he shared with his husband he could feel his expectant state and suddenly he understood. Erestor wanted to die, but as he could not do it himself he wanted *him* to kill him. The raised arm did not hold up the weapon to dodge his blow, but to fall down and let his knife pierce him. Erestor's hand only loosely held the long Mirkwood knife.

Fiondil let his knife descend onto that of his cousin, but more sideways than he had intended at first. There was a metallic thud when the weapons made contact and Erestor's knife was brutally knocked from his loose grasp.  
Erestor tumbled backwards, cradling his hurting right wrist, his large eyes fearfully staring at his husband.

The Mirkwood Elves cheered as Fiondil predatorily approached his hervenn.  
Erestor knew he had crossed the lines, he had gone too far. His cousin would punish him for his defiance. Shivering he lowered his gaze, falling to his knees as exhaustion claimed him.  
He was surprised when his cousin went down on his knees before him and pulled him on his lap.

"That hurts, Elethael."  
Erestor was pretty sure that he didn't mean the two cuts he had inflicted on him.

"You wanted me to kill you."

Erestor felt confused. "I don't know ... I saw this happening. I don't know what is different. You should have killed me, I saw it happening."

Comfortingly the blond stroked the black tresses as he guided his husband's head to rest on his shoulder.  
"When? When did you first foresee me taking your life?"

Erestor's voice seemed muffled because he had still buried his face in his husband's chest. "When I had this overdose around my 41st birthday."

Fiondil smiled sadly. So this was the reason why his Elethael had betrayed him.  
He had wanted to flee with his beloved after the darkling had been forced to marry Magron. He had been hurt and furious when the youngster had tricked him and fled without him.  
But now it seemed that Erestor just had been afraid to die because he had seen him ending his life. After all *he* would never flee with one he thought would kill him some day. All hope was not lost then. He would get Elethael to love him.

"You are mine now, Elethael. I would never take your life." The blond cooed in the advisor's ears.

Starting to sob, Erestor tried to stand, to get away from the restrictive arms that held him close, but the blond was stronger and did not let go even when Erestor started to pummel him.  
The other Mirkwood Elves drew nearer, hesitantly, seeing Erestor's breakdown. But both fighters were injured and needed medical attention.

Slowly Erestor stilled in his cousin's arms, quiet sobs leaving him as he slumped forward, emotionally and physically drained.

"Are you alright, Fiondil? We should see to those cuts."

"I am fine, thank you Annael; although they should probably be bandaged properly, as well as Elethael's throat."  
Fiondil stood, scooped up Erestor in his arms and carried him back to their camp.

"I understand that you are confused and afraid, therefore I will not punish you ... this time. But if you ever attack me again, in whatever way, I will kill that captain who helped you betray your family and brought you to those Noldor."

Gently he laid the darkling down on one of the sleeping mats, ignoring the hate-filled eyes that bored into him.  
"Besides: I have won, my beautiful darkling, meaning you have to keep your word and become mine, hroa and fae." Fiondil grinned as he kissed his husband.

Erestor closed his eyes. Oh he was going to be sick.  
Why couldn't he just be dead? Why had the future changed? What was different?

But somehow the future was not what he had thought it to be anymore, his gift had failed him: His rescue at the hands or rather the claws of the great eagle should not have happened and the twins should not have been there either.

What he had thought to be his fate, unbreakable, unalterable, had not come to pass. He had not died when he should have. Now he was damned to a life of imprisonment, a loveless marriage.  
And suddenly he asked himself the question that had not arisen the past centuries: could he have saved himself? If he had told the others what was about to happen, told Elrond or Glorfindel ... would they have been able to save him?

'Ha, self-pity will get you nowhere, Erestor. Everyone is the architect of his own future. You designed your own!'

He only hoped that Elladan and Elrohír were alright.  
As if feeling his husband's line of thoughts, Fiondil kissed him once again and stood. "I will need to send some guards after your princes. I cannot allow them to return home."

Pushing himself up Erestor grasped his husband's trousers, pleadingly looking up into the steel blue eyes. "Saes, Fiondil."

Leaning down, Fiondil laid a finger over Erestor's quivering lips. "Hush, sweet one. They will do their best to get them alive."  
Then he turned to his comrades. "Hunt them down!"

* * *

_**** Damn it, Elladan. Can we not slow down? ****_Elrohír's broken arm throbbed maddeningly with each jump, each jolt, and the injured leg he pressed around the horses flanks did not fare any better. The poor mare carrying him had long caught up on his pain and wanted to slow down and alleviate his agony, as did Elrohír.

Looking back, Elladan shook his head. _**** They will follow us, toren. We need to get out of sight and then we need to hide. ****_  
Biting his lower lip, Elladan fixed his gaze on his brother. The question was if Elrohír was able to do what he needed him to do.

_**** They will follow not our tracks, but the horses'. We need to reach the river, let the horses continue on their own and return to follow the cockatrice. Come on, the river cannot be far! ****_Only the evening before they had left the Great River behind.

A torturous hour later, the horses' hooves splashed into the water and Elrohír gladly steadied his brown mare and bowed his head in an attempt to get the pain and his laboured breathing under control again.

He only looked up as he felt an arm around his hip, pulling him gently from the beast's back and into the knee-deep water. _**** Come, Elrohír. We need to get upstream. Wait a moment. ****_

Rushing to the horses, Elladan took off the saddle backs and quietly told them to head south to where the Woodland elves were guarding the River. Then he was at his brother's side again, taking his arm and laying it around his shoulder.  
_**** Let's go, brother, we need to hide in the river until they pass us. ****_

_**** I am so going to kill you for what you are putting me through. ****_

_**** All right, but let us postpone that until after we freed Erestor. ****_  
Elladan answered absentmindedly while he steered Elrohír further into the stream until they were waist deep in the cold water. Hunching down and pulling his twin with him, Elladan started to fight against the strong current, step by step walking upstream.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
hroa ~ body  
fae ~ spirit  
toren ~ my brother


	37. Havoc In The King's Halls

**CHAPTER 37: Havoc In The King's Halls**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Silence reigned in the king's halls. Thranduil sat on his throne, the noble head resting on his folded hands, graced with a crown of green summer leaves.  
"Is the peredhil family in danger?"

"We do not know for sure, my lord. But there has not been any news of our sentries on the High Pass. We should have received their report three days ago, but none came."

Every week the sentries in the northern parts and on the High Pass sent note to the king's halls, an arrangement that kept the king and his advisors up to date on the happenings in the more dangerous parts of Mirkwood and its surrounding areas. If the communication broke it meant that either the outpost had been destroyed, or the bird had been intercepted.

"Although I do not like him in particular, we cannot afford to lose Elrond to some orcish scum. I want you to take twenty soldiers and investigate. If they do not find anything, let them venture to Imladris and see if Elrond has arrived safe and sound."

The young advisor Thranduil had addressed nodded and hurried to the doors to pass on his liege's orders to the guards. But just as he reached for the doorknob the large wooden door flew open and a servant entered, the green robe he wore billowed behind him as he strode into the hall and up to the king, bowing before him.

"My liege, there has been message from the Old Ford with the seal of prince Legolas."

Raising a fine eyebrow, Thranduil reached for the small piece of parchment and carefully broke the seal of red wax, showing the insignia of his house.

-l-_  
Elrond and Glorfindel returned. Erestor kidnapped.  
Leading them to the northern outpost. Soldiers there probably involved.  
_-l-

"WHAT?" the king exclaimed infuriated.  
"Stop Elrond's search party!" Waiting for a servant to leave the room and execute his order, he turned to his advisors, staring at them with eyes of fury.

"Is Brandon still at the northern outpost?"

"Yes, my liege, visiting his family. He is not due to return for another two months."

That was no coincidence, even though Legolas had not mentioned the name, Thranduil was well aware that Legolas hated the advisor and was therefore susceptible to whatever nonsense those damned Noldor had told him.

How could Elrond dare to accuse one of his eldest advisors?

"Lord Elrond saw fit to all but accuse members of Brandon's family of kidnapping lord Erestor."

There was a sudden burst of angry exclamations and curses as some of the king's advisors – ever alert to their king's moods – mirrored his anger carefully, even if most of them, too, held a strong dislike for that ruthless sleaze.

"They convinced my son to lead them to the northern outpost."

One of the senior advisor's thoughtfully laid a single finger to his thin lips; the peredhel lord was no fool and if he really had accused Brandon of a crime that serious, he would never have done so without proof. Never would lord Elrond further endanger the relationship between their two realms without reason.

"If I might be so bold, my liege: Send a convoy to investigate. Take lord Elrond's accusation seriously and show your goodwill."

"I can and will not stand by while that Half-Elf accuses my advisor's of kidnapping his lapdog!"

Behind the king one of his personal guards straightened and stepped forward, a serious expression on his face. It was a handsome Silvan with sunburnt skin and friendly eyes; but his muscular form and serene bearings betrayed his physical and psychical strength.

"In all likelihood the Noldor will embarrass themselves and therefore be a little bit more forthcoming in future dealings." The senior advisor tried to reason once again, just as the soldier had rounded Thranduil's throne and gracefully bowed in front of his king.

When the soldier had rounded Thranduil's throne he gracefully bowed in front of his king. "I would volunteer, my liege, to accompany the advisor."

Thranduil pursed his lips. Thalion was one of his best and most faithful soldiers, and over the long years that he had served him had become a friend he could rely on, but this behaviour was highly suspicious. "And why is that, Thalion? You belong to my personal guard, this task would not fall into your field of duties."

"Erestor is the adoptive son of lord Dírhael, who was and always will be a friend of my family. If Erestor is missing, I would like to be counted among those who search for him." Boldly looking straight into his king's eyes, Thalion hoped the king would not question him further. He had no intention to reveal to the whole council that Erestor had been raped by his relatives when he had still been little more than a child.

Leaning back, Thranduil regarded his friend. Thalion was withholding something from him, of that he was almost sure. But he was equally sure that he could trust his friend unconditionally. If the information was essential, Thalion would share it and after all, his subordinates were entitled to some privacy. And he could feel the other's anxiety, though he could not understand it.

"Well then, arrange for a suitable party. I give you leave to act at your own discretion, but keep me informed."

Thankfully Thalion bowed deeply, aware of how much trust his king put in him by allowing him such freedom of action. "I will return as soon as possible with the prince and our guests."

"And please be diplomatic and don't let yourself be infected by that Noldor nonsense. I value Brandon's counsel."

Looking up to his friend and king, Thalion nodded. "I will not fail you, my lord."

* * *

Afternoon, the same day

* * *

Thranduil drummed his fingers on his large desk, the paper in front of him waiting to be signed; the young advisor standing next to him waiting for him to sign it so he could place the next one in front of his king, having that signed, too.

How Thranduil hated that procedure. And moreover he felt his thoughts wandering from this epitome of madness to those Noldor lords running loose in his realm for Legolas, as much as he loved him, was too young, too impressionable to keep legends such as Elrond Peredhel and Glorfindel of Gondolin in check.

Sighing Thranduil turned back to the matter at hand, knowing that Thalion would get the precarious situation under control. "I am sorry, what was this about?"

Pursing his lips, the young blonde raised an elegant eyebrow at his liege's unusual state of distraction, before he politely but decidedly addressed his king. "The instructions regarding the augmentation of the southern regiments. We discussed it this morning as you might remember."

Smiling apologetically, Thranduil signed the order with a sweeping movement of his eagle quill just as a servant entered the spacious chamber, rushing right in front of his desk.

"My liege. Mithrandir and two great eagles have entered Greenwood. Master Mithrandir is currently ..."

In that very moment, said wizard entered the room with his coat billowing behind him. Immediately all heads turned to the newcomers, except the messenger still standing before Thranduil with a contrite expression.

"... on his way to you."

Thranduil looked quite flabbergasted into the Maia's determined face as the old wizard stood in front of his desk, rising to his full height.  
"I need your help immediately, old friend."

"Mithrandir! What happened?"

"Erestor has been kidnapped and brought to the northern outpost near the Great River. I need some of your men to get him out of there before they kill him!"

Thranduil narrowed his eyes; now that Istar had finally lost the last sane thought, replaced by that peredhel's insanity.  
"My. Dear. Old. Friend." He stressed every word, leaning back in his chair as he did so. "Did you by any chance speak to lord Elrond?"

"Thranduil, I have no time to explain but Erestor is there! If I try to do this alone ... they will surely kill him before I can get to him ... I beg you, Thranduil, and you know I seldom beg, I need your help."

The advisors around Thranduil curiously stared at their king. Some of them smiled blatantly, others were whispering to each other on the quiet. The king saw this with growing indignation. Yes, Gandalf behaved strange but he would not let an old and true friend like this wizard be humiliated at his court.

"SILENCE!" he called out, and the irritation in his voice stopped every sound in the large office for some moments. Then he turned again to the old wizard standing in front of him with a frown marring his face.  
"Mithrandir, what by Mordor's depraved creatures are you trying to tell me? Elrond is out there, too, with my son, to find his chief advisor without clarifying his intent. Could you please explain the sudden turmoil around this lord Erestor?"

"Erestor hails from Mirkwood and now has been kidnapped by his family, the very elves he fled from four centuries ago, and I need your help to get him out!"

This time Thranduil tolerated his advisor's giggling, a bad sign. "You want me to believe that the ellon with the blackest hair in all of Middle Earth belongs to *my* people? Highly unusual colouring for a Silvan, wouldn`t you say so, Mithrandir?"

"Thranduil" Gandalf began in an almost threatening voice, "he is only half-Silvan."

The king leaned back in his arm chair, disquieted at his friend's obvious unrest. If the Maia was in such a state it was better to take him serious, especially when Elrond and he independently claimed the same; and still he was not yet ready to believe their fantastic story.

"So a Silvan elf – a member of lord Erestor's family - with very good relations, or else he would not have succeeded in this endeavour, kidnapped lord Elrond's chief advisor? For what reason would anyone risk the danger of being outcast?" He asked sceptically.

Gandalf was short from boiling over. Why did they have to tell the same story over and over again? Why couldn't those naive Firstborn do what they were told, no *asked* to do, just once?  
"As I said before: He is only half-Silvan. And his powers are what his kidnappers want."

Suddenly his beard dwindled into his chin, the wrinkles around his eyes smoothened. Gasps and whispers cut the air as the Maia's long silver-grey hair darkened to an inky black.

Moments later a tall, lean but muscular ellon stood in front of the king of Greenwood, pale with hair as black as the night's sky, towering over the elves around him, surmounting them in grace, beauty and power.  
"And the other half of him is Maia. And I want my son back! Now, Thranduil! Or I will guarantee for nothing."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
peredhel ~ half elf


	38. Welcome Home

**CHAPTER 38: Welcome Home**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
This is now day 13 in the timeline and though it is not the last day of Scarred Fate it is maybe the most important day of this story. And no, that this happens to be exactly the 13th day is mere coincidence and doesn't mean anything, I am not superstitious. Though I have to admit it is a somewhat fitting happenstance ;-)

WARNING: Mild violence. But the next 7 chapters will contain violence in various degrees and it will become rather severe and graphic. I will try to keep the warnings accurate and if such content disturbs you but you want to know what happens nonetheless, there is a detailed timeline chapter at www . lotrfanfiction . com.

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Erestor felt his stomach contract. He rode next to his husband, his head lowered. All around him the elven warriors smiled: cousins, nephews and friends of his family; They were finally so close now, so close to his uncle's hideout. He knew that it had been built solely for him, solely to keep him safe and hidden from other Elves. For surely someone would recognize the chief advisor of Imladris.  
The enlarged caves and their surroundings would be his home, his prison for the rest of his – hopefully short – life.

Unconsciously Erestor urged his horse nearer towards his hervenn, needing someone to ground him, needing the closeness. Fiondil smiled down at the black haired ellon now riding next to him. Erestor was pale and shivered, but he searched his presence, nothing else mattered.  
Gently he reached forward and squeezed one of Erestor's shoulders to show his support.

"Hush, pen velui. Do not fight it, just let it happen and I will help you."

"I am trying. But it is hard to cope with a future that I know nothing about."

Fiondil chuckled. "Oh, Erestor! That's how we other feel every day. But don't be afraid: one gets used to it."

* * *

Only half an hour later Fiondil guided Erestor's horse onto a small clearing, surrounded by green clad Mirkwood guards. The darkling looked at his captors out of the corner of his eye. This then was their welcoming committee. Erestor had to admit that the 'clan' had grown over the last few centuries. Almost fifty Elves stood there between the trees, eying him curiously.

He could not forbear becoming nervous, suddenly feeling like a child again. Many of the assembled Elves had been there centuries ago when he had been brought low by their scheming, their drugging. When he had been Elethael, a frightened abused youth that desperately wanted to flee from his fate and his visions.  
And now they made him feel just like that child again.

Fiondil reached up to help him dismount and immediately caught up on his fear, drawing him against his solid chest. "Don't be afraid. I am here."

"Well, well Elethael; welcome home." A tall ellon with flaxen hair approached them leisurely. He was not a particularly impressive person; not exceptionally beautiful or remarkable in appearance and his body was obviously that of a scholar: a tall, yet thin ellon clad in a dark green robe that made his complexion and hair even fairer than they already were, giving him an almost unhealthy hue.  
But he had without a doubt a very charismatic personality with his dark eyes that glistened with cold intelligence. This was Erestor's hated uncle, this was Brandon.

"I must say: you kept us on the go, my dear nephew."

He scanned the assembling warriors. "Where is your husband? Where is my Magron and the other soldiers?"

Fiondil straightened up. "The answer to the first question: I am here. The answer to the second: he is dead, father. His party was unlucky enough to be caught by Orcs, I am afraid that none of them survived."

A shocked silence spread among the Mirkwood Elves. Nearly twenty warriors, sons, brothers, cousins, and friends were dead? In seconds the disbelieve on Brandon's face yielded to an all-consuming rage. With two steps he was at Erestor's side. His hand buried itself in the raven locks and yanking with all his strength he threw the younger darkling to the ground.  
A startled and pained yelp escaped Erestor's mouth as he tried to gain his feet and simultaneously prying loose his uncle's bruising grip.  
At the same moment several other Elves came running to keep Brandon from hurting the black haired ellon. After all this was not about Brandon, or Magron, nor about Erestor. This was about the gift that the darkling carried, the power of knowing the future, for which the soldiers had died.

"Brandon let him go!"  
"Don't hurt him!  
"Let go, he will learn his place soon enough!"

But Fiondil was quicker. With calculating precision he punched his father in the side and broke loose the hold that he had on his hervenn. Within seconds he had pushed Erestor behind him and was glaring at Brandon, who lay panting in the foliage.

"You will never touch him again!" he hissed.

Fiondil protectively stood between his father and his husband, intently gazing at the other assembled Elves standing in the clearing or helping up Brandon.

"We knew that Elethael would do everything to save the Noldorin Elves and that Vanya and simultaneously try to get away with it.  
We knew we had to be careful but Magron committed one error after another."  
The anger in his voice was venomous as he pulled Erestor against his chest, keeping him close.

"I told him we should stay away from the humans, let them attack the Half-Elf and run in the trap that Erestor doubtlessly had planned for them. But nooo *he* had to take half of our men directly over that cave *to observe*. Most of them did not survive the avalanche. A trap that we *knew* Elethael would set up. Those who did survive immediately began to pursue Elethael not even giving a thought as to why he had let some of the humans survive."

Erestor trembled against Fiondil. To hear his plans and deeds spoken of with such cold fury by the men who he now belonged to sent shivers up and down his spine.  
And once again he was made aware of the fact that he had killed Elves. The avalanche that he had caused had killed them. Erestor knew that he was a kinslayer and even saving the peredhil could not rid him of this guilt. Hot tears drenched his cousin's coat.

"Sshh, darling. I am here. Do not worry, I will protect you." The blond whispered against the black tresses.

With more self-restraint he continued, his voice calm and full of pain "Elethael let himself be caught by Orcs and the humans and the rest of Magron's men were killed there. He manipulated the Orcs into marching against the men of Angmar.  
Elethael nearly died at the hand of those Orcs because we did not have enough men any more to intervene! I do not say that my brother earned to die but he brought it upon himself. I wished he would not have pulled others down with him."

Softly he stroked Erestor's back. "I will get him inside now. He did what we all expected him to do but Magron broke ranks. Come small one."

He steered the darkling towards the cave the other elves somewhat closing in on them but they reached it without interruption. Erestor let out a shuddering breath as they left the hostile group behind and Fiondil squeezed his shoulder for a moment in silent comfort.

The cave's entrance was not very large and both Elves needed to duck down to enter but it immediately widened and opened into a spacious hall.  
The walls had been carved and the floor levelled. Pale wooden furniture tried unsuccessfully to lighten the room and carpets lied on the rocky floor and even covered parts of the walls to create a warm atmosphere, numerous torches casting flickering shadows on the stones and furniture. But it was a cave, Erestor thought and it would stay a cave and his prison even if one coated its walls with mithril.  
In the back of the cave a partition divided the room, hiding the one place Erestor wanted to avoid at any cost: behind it undoubtedly waited a large bed and probably a bathtub and washbasin.

"We even have broken through the ceiling there" Fiondil pointed to the back of the cave where something like a chimney was embedded in the stones. The blond cocked his head, smiling proudly.  
"It can be shut down against the smoke and a rather complex system of funnels was designed by myself to allow 'airing'."

Erestor stood in the middle of the cave quite shaken. Black eyes turned to his husband. "Thank you" he whispered, although he could not bring himself to feel thankful that his hervenn had prepared so much for his captivity.

Fiondil affectionately looked at the darkling in front of him. "Morngaur. I know that this is hard for you. Wolfs need to run free."  
The blond stood in front of his hervenn, rubbing his upper arms. One of his hands wandered to his cousins chin, gently raising it so that their eyes met. "One day, my black wolf, we will run together. Would that please you?"

Erestor gasped as his cousin's lips took his. He could feel the other's lust, how Fiondil's imposing body pressed against his. He had promised not to fight this, promised to submit. He felt his stomach turn as the blonde's hands began to roam over his body.

Then suddenly it stopped as Fiondil drew back, grinning as Erestor swayed.  
"Let me draw us a bath pen velui."  
A wave of relief and dread washed over Erestor, an odd mixture. He was immensely relieved that the other's hands had left his skin but he dreaded to bath with his cousin. The blond would surely use this opportunity well.

Erestor slowly sat down on one of the cushioned arm chairs, observing his husband who was kindling a fire in the fireplace.  
"I heard you had established a revolutionary system of water supply in Imladris. Using the pressure of the river to provide water in nearly every room; I am quite impressed, you know?  
I have copied some of it. I needed to re-adjust it though. We have changed the direction of one of the smaller streams and now we have a little cistern here."

Fiondil disappeared behind the partition and soon Erestor heard how water splashed into the tub. The moment he came forward again, his smile vanished. There in the cave's entrance stood Brandon dark against the light outside, his posture screaming of fury and unrestrained anger. He had obviously spoken with the other returning warriors.  
A long elegant finger pointed at his youngest son, trembling in the effort to stay calm. "You will complete the bond tonight. You will take him and then you will give him his first dose. We will stay outside and keep watch.  
Establish that bond! We need it to be alert in case this half elven scum sings out. You should never have let them live."

Brandon turned, his mouth distorted in disgust and grim satisfaction, seeing Erestor hugging himself close.  
"Don't be too gentle. Show him what he will get if he defies our wishes."

"We need something to eat first, if you could arrange for something like that." The younger warrior hissed at his father. Brandon nodded and left with angry steps.

Fiondil glared at his father's retreating figure but the moment they were alone he strode towards his husband, cursing his father. Valar, he was trying his best to ease his cousin's nervousness and Brandon had to ruin everything within seconds.  
He crouched down before the darkling. "I will never hurt you, Erestor, never. I love you, truly I do. And I won't hurt the twins as soon as they are brought back."  
Gently the blond stroke the raven locks, waiting for the tears and tremors to subside.

"I will heat the water now, okay? Come with me, sweet one, I want you close in case my dear father wants to grace us again with his valued presence."

He pulled the other up and guided him behind the partition. As Erestor had correctly guessed there was a bathtub behind it and another partition hid the large bed of which he managed to get a glimpse when they made their way to the tub.  
It was a strange basin though: a metal pipe came out at the bottom, disappeared in a basket of iron mesh where it was bent in upward leading loops before it went back into the tub shortly below the rim.

Fiondil watched with amusement as Erestor studied the gadget with curiosity.  
"That's brilliant. Did you do that? That would effectively heat the water!"

The blond chuckled. "Thank you for the praises Elethael. Yes, I did that. It's much more comfortable than heating pots of water on an open fire and having to haul them around. It will take some time though until the water is warm enough."

The blond started a fire in the metal basket and turned to Erestor again. "In the meantime we can eat.  
Will you give me the honour of dining with me?"

Erestor had to swallow, wishing the other were cruel, forceful - not caring and loving - towards him. "You confuse me: I am yours, there is no need to be charming: I will not fight you."

"You wish to hate me, but deep inside you know that you cannot. We are meant for each other and you will grow to love me just as I love you." Erestor doubted that very much but stayed silent nonetheless. "Come you must be hungry."

While Fiondil had taken care of their bath, someone had brought a tray with bread and stew, even a bowl of fruit salad.  
Both Elves sat down opposite of each other and Fiondil began to fill their plates with the hot stew. Erestor's stomach growled and he immediately pressed his hands upon it, trying to suppress the noise. He blushed and smiled apologetically. His husband returned the smile and gestured for him invitingly.

"I promise that the food quality will improve once we settle down a little bit. We did not know when exactly we would return, so it's only stew today."

"That is just fine for me, do not worry."

They ate in silence and it was not long before Erestor noticed that Fiondil had stopped and laid down his fork. The blond had folded his hands and leaned back in his comfortable chair as he was watching him, a small smile playing on his lips.  
But Erestor was not yet ready to go on to the next stage of this evening. He swallowed and although he felt more than replete he nervously refilled his plate, desperately clutching at every straw in his reach.

A gentle hand halted his movements and he looked up. "Your stomach will get upset if you continue. You are not hungry anymore, my dear one."

Erestor looked at him with a blank face, but his voice was raw with anxiousness. "We have not yet had desert."

A mischievous smile greeted his objection. "We will take it with us."

The blond stood and extended his hand; hesitantly Erestor took a steadying breath before laying his hand into that of his captor, cousin and husband.  
With his other hand Fiondil took the bowl of fruits and then he guided his husband behind the partition again where steam ascended from the hot water.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
hervenn ~ husband  
pen velui ~ sweet one  
morngaur ~ black wolf


	39. Eavesdropping

**CHAPTER 39: Eavesdropping**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Stealthily the twins crept through the darkening undergrowth, following the hoof prints of their former kidnappers' mares but staying beside the narrow path, not wanting to be seen by any of the Mirkwood elves.  
But if he was honest with himself Elrohír had no idea if that precaution was necessary at all. The Mirkwood elves had managed to steadily increase their head start, as they were still on horseback and the chances of them finding Erestor in time would have been almost non-existent if not for Elladan's determination and the forced march with almost no rest.  
Still, the twins had simply no idea how close they were to that secret hideout in this dark forest that never changed its hostile appearance and seemed to try and keep them away and off the path. A path that was far too overgrown and seemingly untouched considering that twenty horses had passed here mere hours ago. If not for the clear tracks in the muddy underground to follow, Elrohír was sure they would have gone astray.

At least his leg wound was finally closing with the help of the herbs Elladan had collected at the forest edge two days before and the pain had lessened considerably.

Straining his ears, Elrohír listened into the darkness. Mirkwood was disturbingly silent compared to the forest surrounding the Last Homely House. There were no birds and few other animals.  
But in this silence, he could make out the faint echoes of voices.  
_**** Elladan, listen! We must be close! ****_

In the fading light Elrohír could see his brother halting in his movements, intently listening. _**** You are right. We need to be quiet and find out where they have taken Erestor. And we need weapons ... ****_

Elrohír looked to him sharply. Not only would stealing weapons prove to be a difficult endeavour but if they now raised weapons against their kidnappers they should better be prepared to kill and kill quickly and quietly or else the whole bunch of them would pounce on them.  
While both of the twins had assassinated Orcs before, Elrohír was not sure if he could kill an unprepared elven being, without giving them a warning or the chance to lay down their weapons.

For a moment he remembered Elladan's cold, empty eyes while his brother had sneaked up on an orcish scout; his knife flashing in the moonlight as it cut his enemy's gut, ripped open his chest, his belly and severed the artery in the right femoral; a series of four quick, lethal, fluid movements ... performed with such calculating, shocking coldness that Elrohír had truly thought his real brother dead at that moment.  
Ever since he had been dying 'every day a little death' until a week ago.

But he would not survive seeing his brother extract such vengeance on other elves.  
And yet he remembered Erestor' words in his own letter.

-l-_  
If you find your brother changed, give him the chance and time to realise he has; give him the chance to prove himself.  
_-l-

Nodding hesitantly, he waited for Elladan to take the lead again.

Minutes later they saw pale elven lights shimmering through the dark leaves before them and more and more the distant voices they had heard formed into angry words coming from one of the large telain that were hidden in the tree tops.

"Calm down, Aereth." A male voice hissed.

"Calm down?" A female answered in between frantic sobs. "Calm down? Annael you bastard, he got my sons killed! How am I to calm down?"

"If anyone got them killed it was Magron." Another ellon answered angrily.

_**** Maybe they'll give us a hint as to where Erestor is. ** **_Elladan told his twin over their link as he pressed himself into the shadows, Elrohír following his example.

"How convenient of you to shift all the blame to the dead, Húrphen. You make me sick!"

"Aereth!" The one called Annael intervened. "I know you're hurting, and no one can relieve this pain. But you have to understand that no one wanted that. Your sons accompanied us of their own free will."

"Because Brandon is a devilish seducer!" Again the woman broke out into sobs and Elrohír looked to his brother uncomfortably.

"He took them from me! And all for kidnapping that boy. I told him to leave my sons in peace, told him that I didn't want them to be involved in such a thing."

There was a small pause before the woman continued somewhat calmer. "Don't you see? He is using us for his benefit."

"*He* has always been looking after our family! How many of us would have been killed if he had not prevented us from being transferred to the Orc and spider infested territories? How many of our family got promising employments at Thranduil's court because of him? With Elethael now here again, he will be able to continue this protection. None of us would have been harmed if Magron had stuck to the plan. And your sons were at the front line, trying to prove themselves!"

"Nay! They were so young, they did not know what they were doing! Annael, please ..."

"Húrphen is right, Aereth. They were not innocent in this."

After that there was nothing for a long time except the soft sounds of weeping. Shortly after the two male ellyn climbed down the ladder to the talan.

"What of the boy?"

"Brandon told Fiondil to establish that bond and drug him afterwards. With the peredhil still wandering about, we need his visions more than ever."

Aghast, the twins looked at each other. They had hoped that they would come in time to prevent the bonding; to learn that it was probably happening at that very moment filled them with dread. But they couldn't get away now with the two warriors standing so close lest they be found out and moreover they still did not know where the advisor was. Turning again to the two ellyn with pale faces the twins strained their ears to hear the hushed voices.

"Annael ... does Fiondil love him?"

The blonde bit his lip before answered hesitantly. "He always has."

Nodding, the other – Húrphen – looked to the ground. "Did he spur Magron on? So he could marry Elethael instead?"

Quickly stepping close to the other blond warrior, Annael hissed at him. "Don't you ever speak like this again ... ever! Fiondil loves his family, he loves us. It is true that he hates his father for giving Elethael to Magron but he would never have jeopardized any of us!"

Raising his hands placating Húrphen stepped back. "All right, forget it. But I must say that I almost feel sorry for the young seer. Damn it, Annael, did you see how obsessed Fiondil is?"

"That doesn't concern us. He will keep Elethael alive, something I'm not sure Magron would have been able to do; and he will keep him under control and inform us of his visions. You should go to bed now."

Frowning, Húrphen looked at his comrade. "Am I dismissed so easily?"

"Yes!" Annael growled and marched away. The other blonde remained some moments more, angrily staring after his friend before he, too, turned and walked away.

_**** Damn it, Elladan, they are all mad! ****_

Raising an eyebrow, the other twin replied somewhat matter of fact _**** I thought that much was clear already. ****_

_**** And what do we do now? We still don't know where he is, only that we have to make haste! ****_

_**** Well then ... let us search for him. ****_

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

talan ~ wooden platform  
telain ~ wooden platforms  
ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves  
peredhil ~ half elves


	40. Like The Dove Against The Falcon

**CHAPTER 40: Like The Dove Against The Falcon**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
WARNING: dub-con.

When I wrote this I had to think of a German poem I read a long time ago. "Des Pfarrer's Tochter von Taubenhain" or "the pastor's daughter of 'Dovegrove'". It is about the daughter of a pastor who is seduced by a lord, which in the end leads to her death. The lines which kept replaying in my mind throughout this were (roughly translated):

"…  
There it whispers and moans so fearfully;  
There it clatters and flutters and balks  
Like the dove against the falcon

So much for the chapter title, now to the chapter…

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Standing from the dinner table, Fiondil extended his hand in invitation; hesitantly Erestor took a steadying breath before laying his own into that of his captor, cousin and husband, being rewarded with a soft smile.  
With his other hand Fiondil took the bowl of fruits and then he guided his husband behind the partition again where steam ascended from the hot water. Never letting go of Erestor's clammy fingers, he put down their desert on a side table and turned towards the younger elf.

Erestor felt his stomach flutter as his cousin begged him closer with a gentle tug on his wrist and he watched apprehensively as Fiondil sat down on the rim of the bathtub, slowly loosening the cord at the collar of his shirt with his free hand. As if his feet were not his own, as if they moved of their own volition, Erestor inched closer to his husband, his breathing quickening and his heart hammering madly in his chest.

"We are only going to bath my dear."  
But the voice was already husky with what Erestor refused to acknowledge as desire.

He felt the sun-kissed hand tighten around his white wrist, leaving him no escape, pulling him closer. Warm lips once again claimed his, but more forcefully than before, while the hands sneaked around his waist, travelling downwards along his spine, groping and teasing on their way. Erestor tried hard not to shiver at the gentle ministrations, tried not to feel lightheaded at the undeniably and disturbingly good sensations that flooded his body, but failed. He had no choice but to gasp as those hands cupped his behind, squeezing, kneading.  
Immediately a brisk tongue used the opportunity to gain entrance and plunder the luscious cavern, trying to entice his counterpart into a more active role. Closing his eyes and fighting back the tears of equal shame and fear Erestor allowed the intrusion. He would submit, he had sworn to do this. But it was not of his own volition, these things done to him.

'But they feel good' a persistent part of his mind spoke up nastily and would not be silenced.

With a shiver Erestor felt one of the warrior hands sliding up his back again, lifting his linen shirt in the process. 'A Elbereth, saes…'

Only when the blond pulled the garment over his husband's head did the kiss end, leaving his lips swollen and red and his chest heaving.  
Nervously Erestor watched as Fiondil drew back a little bit to admire openly his well-muscled form. The bruises had faded and even the stomach wound and the injury from the arrow head that had been embedded in his shoulder were closed. Still the fresh scar tissue reminded the blond at how close he had been on losing Erestor.

And then there was the thin red line on his hervenn's throat, but Fiondil was trying to ignore that painful incident as he let his fingers ghost over the older scars the Orcs had left on the pale body before him.

"It was the first time that I was injured thusly." Erestor murmured, maybe to distract Fiondil a little bit, maybe to distract himself from his body's traitorous reactions.  
'It's not only your body! *you* want…' he dared not finish the thought and bowed his head.

"And the last, for my beautiful husband, I will not allow anyone to hurt you ever again!"  
Fiondil smiled and began to pull down Erestor's trousers. 'Please, no' The dark elf schooled his features and took a steadying breath as the blond started to kiss every inch of newly exposed skin, fascinating himself with the small shivers his actions elicited from the younger man. Yet he did not draw it out too much, as much for his own sake as for Erestor's. If Fiondil continued now he would not be able to stop and Erestor needed to be gently drawn out of his shell, needed time to realise the attraction that Fiondil knew to be there. And then all would fall into place.

He indicated Erestor with a gentle nudge to step out of his trousers and smiled as the dark beauty complied readily.

With a startled yelp Erestor wrapped his arms around Fiondil's neck as the blond scooped him up in his arms with a chuckle. Then he was eased down into the hot water gazing at his husband with large eyes, trying to ignore the affection looking back so intently. Those unrelenting unpredictable changes in his husband's behaviour made him feel so helpless, so vulnerable.

Fiondil shed his clothes slowly, teasingly, very much aware that his cousin tried hard not to look at him, and very much aware that he was failing, sending him flickering, apprehensive glances out of the corner of his eye. Grinning the blond went to join his hervenn. Lazily he sat down at one side, pulling the darker ellon to sit between his legs.

He was determined to make Erestor relax under his loving touches and so he ignored how the other tensed up against him. Instead he took a sponge from a side table and started to run it over Erestor's shoulders with firm but equally gentle strokes. Massaging the tense muscles he began to speak softly, trying to ease his husband's nerves.

"You have surpassed every expectation, Erestor. Over centuries I have planned, schemed but you brilliantly encountered my plans. And your strength; I never thought you could fight like that. Who taught you?"

Erestor glanced over his shoulder. "Glorfindel did."

Affectionately Fiondil tucked a black strand behind his husband's ear. "The famous balrog slayer? That explains your prowess with the sword. But how came he to be your teacher?"

"I asked him. When after I started to dream again my visions showed me violence and death I wished to learn how to fight, hoping that this would come in handy.  
After six or seven decades I finally mustered the courage to approach lord Glorfindel. I told him that I had been threatened and asked him if he would teach me how to defend myself.  
Naturally he wanted to tell Elrond and find the culprits but I answered that I wished to deal with this problem myself as I could not prove anything and that I would deny everything if he was to tell someone. Finally he agreed."

Behind him Fiondil started to attend to his hair, massaging in the scented soap. "Always so manipulative" the blond grinned.

"I did not want to be like that. My family made me be that way." He nearly had blurted out 'you made me be that way' but it was surely unwise to anger his captor like that.

"Do you regret it?"

Erestor did not answer at first, honestly contemplating over the question. "Regret is the wrong word, I guess. I don't know what I would have become if it were not for you all, so I cannot regret this. I cannot even regret my childhood, not having known something else, although I wish it had been different.  
But I regret not having been able to save those soldiers whom have been killed by those humans. And I regret not having saved Dírhael. I even regret that the soldiers under Magron's command died."

"I love you. My intelligent, true, brave and compassionate mate. My hervenn."  
Fiondil bowed forward and embraced his husband. Showering his shoulder and neck with kisses. Erestor found himself leaning against the strong body behind him and hated himself for seeking the comfort of someone who would have accepted the deaths of Elrond, Glorfindel and their small family to capture him.

But Fiondil was monitoring him closely and sensing that Erestor was about to fall into self-deprecation once again, he broke loose from the embrace and began to pour water over the black tresses, washing away the soap and disrupting Erestor's train of thought with a polite and clinical "Would you do my hair as well?"  
His ploy seemed to work out splendidly and Erestor turned surprised just as his hervenn repositioned himself so that he sat with his back to Erestor.

Hesitant, gentle touches made Fiondil smile. Erestor washed his cousin's hair with careful fingers, massaging the soap in slowly and then drenching the sponge in the hot water and wringing it out over the blond scalp. He did not know what came over him but when he had finished his task he started to run the sponge over the blond's broad shoulders and then downwards over his back, hesitating at the thin red line that stood out harshly on the otherwise unblemished skin – a reminder of their fight.

"Forgive me." He whispered.

"I already did, even before you inflicted the wound, worry not."

Fiondil took the nearly forgotten bowl of fruits. Pleased with the development he took out a slice of peach and held it out for Erestor. His hand lingered a hand length in front of the other's lips, so Erestor could decide if he wanted to use his hands to take the soft fruit.

Erestor looked at his hervenn. He knew the choice that he was given: to solely fulfil his promise or to accept his husband's loving and caring gestures, embrace what the blond was offering and return something in kind.  
The advisor knew he would die here, it was only a matter of time until the elven sickness took hold over him again as he had never been able to really cope with the rather violent visions. He didn't love Fiondil, but the blond would be able to ease his suffering and maybe even be good for him in his loneliness. The question was: was it betrayal to play along?  
Erestor almost smiled grimly. No, whom would he betray by grasping at a final chance of a little bit happiness? There was no one waiting for him. Was it morally reprehensible? Very likely.

Long seconds passed by like hours. Fiondil swallowed disappointedly and began to pull back his hand. But then pale fingers laid themselves around his wrist, keeping his hand in place. Fascinated Fiondil stared at the black tresses as Erestor's head bowed and his lips closed around the sweet fruit and the fingers that held it.  
The blond gasped as the agile tongue wrapped around his thumb licking off the sweet peach's juice. Black eyes met blue ones as Erestor silently begged his cousin to understand. This was not about love but about comfort, about easing pain and loneliness. But Fiondil only knew that Erestor had made the first step towards acceptance and love.  
Nearly euphoric he eagerly took the next piece of fruit to see it vanishing between the soft rose petal lips.

Hesitantly Erestor drew closer to his cousin, sitting down between the blond's strong legs. His eyes never leaving the blue orbs in front of him, Erestor suppressed a shudder, seeing the lust and desire staring back at him so completely unveiled.  
His pale hands reached for the bowl and he singled out a grape, bringing it to Fiondil's lips. Obligingly the blond took the fruit, kissing the retreating fingers as he did so.

They continued to feed each other until the bowl was nearly empty and the fire in the metal basket of the bathtub extinguished. Soon the water would cool down and then the relaxing effect would vanish with the warmth. Fiondil stood up, grasped a towel and opened it for Erestor. The smaller Elf stood with only a short moment of hesitation, immediately being enveloped in the linen.

The blond Mirkwood warrior secured the cloth around his own hips and started to dry his husband's hair with gentle movements, taking his time with that simple gesture of affection and smiling at the darkling as he felt him lean into the touch.

Afterwards he turned to his own blonde tresses and Erestor's nervousness returned as the distracting touches had ceased and he knew that it was finally time to fulfil his marital duties.

"Go to bed, melethen."

Inclining his head, Erestor rounded the other partition and came to stand in front of a large bed of light wood and light blue bed linen. Erestor was glad that it was not silk or satin; he often felt cold these days and the smooth textures often worsened this feeling.

So this would be where he would lose his virginity. He had hoped to be dead before ever coming to this point, fearing the unpredictable traits of his cousin and not wishing for his first to be someone he did not love. But now he was even encouraging the tall blond ellon.  
But he was so nice, gentle and considerate. Love and affection radiated from the blue eyes, blue like Glorfindel's.  
Valar what was the matter with him? That creature was despicable, detestable. He had sent elves into certain death. He had blackmailed him into bonding with him.  
And his eyes were so much paler than Glorfindel's and more calculating, an ice cold hue of blue.

Somehow he felt cursed: every elf he loved was happily married and the one – and only - elf that loved or even desired him, was a lunatic. He just did not know if he should be glad that his cousin was so ... considerate and even sweet towards him or if he should not be, as it was harder to hate him this way.

Slowly he climbed onto the bed. The sheets moving against his skin made him feel so very conscious of his naked state and he hurried under the blue blanket.

Lying back and curling up on the mattress he closed his eyes and waited for his husband to join him, drawing the blanket up to his chin. That was how Fiondil found him shortly after. He could not contain a quiet laugh at the childish gesture. Climbing on to the bed he crawled below the blanket next to Erestor.

"Look at me."

He waited for the black eyes to settle on his face. "I will make this good for you. I will be gentle and we will go slowly. I love you and I will never hurt you."

Erestor only stared back. "You said you would punish me ... or Thalion."

"I trust you to not give me reason, and then it will always be like this."  
A slow sensual kiss followed, at least from Fiondil. Erestor only hesitantly participated.  
This was oh so wrong; his cousin was fair but calculating and cold, only not towards him. He had forced him into this bond by threatening the twin's life. Erestor couldn't just go along because it was easier not to resist.  
Kissing and flirting was one thing, allowing him to bed him totally another. Despite his earlier determination to try and make this work and spare him pain and humiliation he could not, would not continue like this, could not participate as if he wanted this.

"Touch me!" The blond demanded huskily, taking hold of one of the white hands and gently guiding it towards his chest.  
Erestor's breathing quickened. No, he would not do this; even if this would make the whole situation unbearably worse, he needed to save something of himself, needed to save the last shred of a proud ellon. He would never be able to face his reflection in the mirror if he complied now.

"I promised to submit to you, not to participate or even find pleasure in it!" he hissed in a final attempt of defiance while he pulled back his hand.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
a Elbereth ~ o Elbereth  
saes ~ please  
hervenn ~ husband  
melethen ~ my love


	41. Rage

**CHAPTER 41: Rage**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
Warning: non-con, violence. Please do take those warnings serious!

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Fiondil immediately froze, his eyes freezing with him. Erestor shivered at the cold fury in those ice blue orbs but he returned the stare in equal.

"You do not have to participate; I like my lovers submissive beneath me. And the pleasure ... I will teach you to find pleasure at my hands!" The blond growled inauspiciously.

Suddenly he drew away from the bed, disappearing behind the partition where they had bathed together. Erestor fearfully waited for the blond to return, knowing that he could never escape. Even if he managed to leave the cave there was a small company outside who wished to see him brought low because of the relatives they had to mourn.  
He flinched as he heard the sound of cloth being ripped apart and his throat filled with cold dread.  
Only moments later Fiondil emerged again, Erestor saw the muscled chest heaving in anger. The blond held straps of cloth, probably from one of the towels, in his fist and predatorily approached him.

Erestor tried to crawl away then but the blond was faster, grabbed him in a bruising grip and flipped him over. Lying on his stomach, Erestor struggled to turn again, writhing beneath his naked cousin. Panicking he felt the rather large arousal pressing hard against his back as the blond pinned him down with his weight, whooshing the air out of his lungs.

The advisor whimpered in pain as Fiondil none too gently took hold of his wrists and bound them to the bedposts.  
"This could have been good for you. I wanted to make your first time special. But it seems my little darkling does not appreciate niceties in his sleeping chambers." The blond hissed into his ear cruelly.  
"Maybe you like being taken roughly? But then again ... how would you know, never having experienced something like this."

Erestor could not think straight anymore. He could feel Fiondil grinding his rather prominent arousal against his back, the hot breath against his ear. The knots in his stomach constricted painfully in fear. 'Valar, no!'  
Not thinking at all his feet came up, showering the blond's back with sharp kicks in an afford to get him off of his lithe body. But the Mirkwood warrior only growled, burying his fists into the black tresses and pressed the darkling's fear-filled face into the pillow below.  
Erestor tried to scream, but his cries for help were muffled by the pillow. He was terrified.  
'Elbereth help me!' he did not want to suffocate and tried to wriggle himself free. But the hands were unforgiving, keeping him in place. Soon his struggle grew weaker as the need for air became desperate.

Suddenly the painful hold on his head stopped and the weight on his torso was removed. His head was reeling and he felt like throwing up everything that he had eaten during the last three hours. The next thing he knew was that his ankles were grasped and bound to the bedposts on the foot of the bed, leaving him spread wide and open and so utterly helpless. A pillow was thrust beneath his hip. It was too much.

Tears ran down Erestor's now red face. "Please ..."

Fiondil crouched down next to Erestor to glare at him. "Please what?"

Erestor did not know what to say, what to beg for. He knew Fiondil would not be gentle with him, not anymore; maybe if he apologised and swore to love his cousin, but he could not do that.  
Everyone is the architect of his own future. Erestor's now contained pain and humiliation and it was his fault, the fault of his rebellious nature that it was this way.

He closed his eyes, wishing he would faint or die or being swallowed by the mattress or the stones beneath. Had he known how violently Fiondil would react ... but maybe it was for the best, his cousin at least made it easy for him to hate him.

"I see. Let us proceed then."

Erestor felt the mattress dip down as his cousin returned on to it. The precipitous madness that had taken hold of the blonde seemed to vanish as he carefully lowered himself between the wide spread legs of his unwilling lover.

Sensually his fingertips ghosted over the backs of his knees and upwards, never stilling. Erestor shivered under the touch in fearful anticipation. He could feel hot breath against his back and then a hot wetness as the blond kissed and suckled on his burning skin, leaving small bruises everywhere, marking, claiming. Suddenly there were questing fingertips against the previously untouched pink rosebud. Erestor squirmed and tried to get away, but it was in vain and he heard his husband chuckle huskily behind him.

Erestor could feel the air being pressed out of his lungs as the blonde laid down on him, slightly on one side so that his fingers could still massage the puckered rosebud that Erestor tried to clench shut in a futile attempt to close his body against the intrusion that he knew was about to come.

"Apologize! Apologize and I will make sure you will enjoy this nearly as much as I will" was whispered against his ear. The dark-haired ellon clenched his eyes shut.  
"There is nothing I should apologize for." He rounded hesitantly.

Erestor could almost see the fair face distorting in anger as Fiondil eased himself off of his lithe form, settling between his thighs once again. Then with sickening forcefulness the Mirkwood Elf tried to push four digits into his cousin's petite body, not wasting a thought to preparation or lubrication. Yet without it the brutal invasion proved to be difficult and in the end Fiondil had to twist and turn his hand, winding his way in.

An agonized scream was ripped from Erestor's mouth as he felt his passage being torn by the cruel calloused fingers. Burning, searing pain flowed through his lower body, making him try to cower into a tight ball. He pulled at the linen constrains that kept him in place but they did not give way. All he achieved was that the rough texture broke his skin, leaving his wrists sore and bleeding.  
He felt sick as his cousin began to thrust his fingers in and out of his clenching passage, turning and wriggling them around and he could not hold back his sobs and pain filled groans any longer.

Then as suddenly as it had started the cruel hand retreated, leaving him shivering and bleeding.  
"Do you want to apologize now?" The question was asked with such cold indifference that Erestor had to sob even harder. Briefly he asked himself if he seemed to be that cold in the eyes of his fellow Elves.

"It must not be like this ..." came the soft whisper as his husband reached below his body and began to slide careful, gentle fingers along his flaccid member and kissed his lower back.

Then Erestor could feel his tormentor shift on the mattress and he could hear a bottle being uncorked.  
"This can be so wonderful ..." Fiondil cooed as his now oiled finger gently massaged the tiny opening. Blood already clung to it and it made him desire the pale body in front of him even more.

The blond ellon ignored the broken whimpers and pleas to stop and Erestor startled as a single oily finger pressed against his anus. He whimpered at the initial pain as it breached him and was pushed deep inside. Fiondil stilled for a moment before he began to thrust his finger in and out, gently, slowly. Changing the angle and crooking his digit he hit the darkling's prostrate, making him buck and gasp in surprised pleasure.  
Erestor heard his husband chuckle and blushed an angry red. How he hated that elf, hated himself for being that weak and easy to manipulate.

"I would prefer to take you like that: gently, lovingly. I want to make you beg for more, make you writhe and squirm beneath me in passion and lust."  
He thrust as deeply as he could inside and grinned at the yelp he received. "But if you keep up your useless, silly, defiant behaviour, I shall take you like before: without lubricant and restraint, with force. I will let you feel all the pain and frustration you inflict upon me."

Once again Erestor felt soft lips on his lower back. "So what will it be, Elethael?"

But suddenly there were steps in the front of the cave and a hushed voice that saved Erestor from having to answer.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf


	42. A Trial of Strength

**CHAPTER 42: Trial of Strength**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Elrond's party had reached the northern extensions of Mirkwood this very morning, riding along the edges of the old withering forest which's tree tops were towering to their right. Legolas had then led the way into the great forest, following the course of the Forest River downstream. It would lead them to the outpost.

During their journey they had shared the last week's happenings with the young Greenwood prince and more and more Legolas believed them; who would be able to think out such a story anyway?  
And if it should prove to be wrong, there was no harm in seeing into the matter. Surely it would help to improve the relationship between their realms if Greenwood took Elrond's worries seriously. Legolas halted his horse and turned to the Noldorin Elves behind him.  
"We are now very close to the camp of lord Brandon's sons. Let me speak first. I am his superior and he will have to listen to my orders."

Glorfindel looked first to his lover then to the young blond prince. "Erestor won't be in the camp but in the close surroundings. It is of essential importance that they do not get the chance to warn his captors or they will take him in the undergrowth and we will lose him."

"Good, so we will have to rush through the lines of guards."

"Glorfindel, your only task is to watch the people in the camp. Observe them. The moment one leaves ..." Elrond began. He knew that he did not have to go into the details; Glorfindel would act in his usual professional way. His captain looked back and established eye contact with some of his guards, silently telling them with curt nods who was to observe the Silvans along with him.

Then the party spurred their horses on, galloping along the Forest River deeper into the dark woods.  
Soon it seemed that the trees were closing in on them and the Noldorin soldiers ducked their heads, nervously awaiting the moment the camp would appear between the dark tree trunks or the green uniform of a Greenwood sentry, calling out to them.

And indeed it did not take long before a blond soldier jumped from one of the trees in front of them. His face was pale with worry as he stood in the way of his prince and a whole unit of Noldorin soldiers. Raising both hands in an attempt to stop the riders, the young soldier called out to them "My prince ..."

But Legolas only slowed scarcely perceptible and straightened in his saddle. Copying the arrogant expression he had seen his father using when dealing with unwelcome guests he commanded the soldier to stand aside, forcing him to do so by riding towards the blond guard and making him jump out of his way.  
Looking back Glorfindel saw with disdain as the young soldier clasped a shivering hand over his mouth. 'Guilty as charged' the seneschal thought; at least he was now certain that they were searching for Erestor in the right place.

Minutes later the party dashed into the camp, halting their horses between the tall and strong trees that hid the telain so well. Legolas turned his horse, trying to spot the one he sought, but in vain.

Immediately the resident elves appeared on the flat's edges, looking down at them in apparent shock as the Noldorin took their positions. They loosely spread around the camp, keeping an eye on the Mirkwood elves, their bows resting in one hand: not yet drawn but showing their willingness to do so.

"I want every ellon and elleth down here immediately; no one is to leave the camp! And get me lord Brandon!"

Hesitantly the elves complied, leaving the tree's protection to stand before their prince, bowing respectfully to him (not to the Imladris elves, as Elrond noted).

The Imladrian elves used the opportunity to observe the camp while Legolas had to deal with his people. They could not see on top of the various telain but they didn't need to, to see that the elves in this camp hid something. Their nervousness was nearly seizable.

"I am here, my liege." A tall ellon stepped out and bowed deeply to his prince.  
"My lords." He repeated the gesture towards the darker ellyn also, but somewhat mockingly. Cold eyes swept over the newcomers but Glorfindel saw something else in those orbs, too. A nervous flicker. He had seen enough liars, traitors and other foul beings to know the signs. The little twitch of the corner of his mouth told him all he needed to know.

"What brings you to this rather far-off post?"

"I have no time for games, lord Brandon. We are searching for Erestor."

A noticeable movement went through the assembled elves like a rustling of leaves; But curiously enough there were no whispers, no gasps of surprise, just this nervous movement, this flicker.  
Glorfindel observed the elves in front of him, disgust rising in his throat. All of them knew, all of them were involved. How could *Eldar* do this to one of their kind?  
But he could not let his attention wane now in these critical moments. During the next seconds it would show if they would warn Erestor's guards, showing the Noldor the way to the missing counsellor.

Suddenly he saw a movement out of the corner of his eyes. Without turning he directed his gaze to the position and saw a tall ellon stepping into the dark forest, blending in with the shadows beneath.  
Drawing the attention of Tauron, who stood nearby, he indicated the direction in which the blond elf had vanished and without ostentation he slowly left the assembly, following the Silvan with Tauron at his heels.

Of all the assembled elves, few noticed the disappearance of the three elves, all attention lying on Elrond, Legolas and Brandon; especially on Brandon, who was confronted with the crime they all had part in.  
"The chief advisor of lord Elrond? Why should he be here?"

Elrond urged his dark horse forward, looking down on his chief advisor's uncle. "Remember that a ring-bearer is present. Do not try to lie to me."

"I did not lie, my lord." And indeed he had not, so far, as he had only been asking counter questions.  
"But look for yourself if you don't believe me: you will not find him here. But then ..." he turned to Legolas "... since when does one of the royal family take orders from a Noldo?"

"You go too far, advisor." The young prince replied but he then turned away from his father's advisor and to the other elves.  
"We are searching for lord Erestor of Imladris. We know that the soldiers in this camp kidnapped him and they will be punished severely. However, I'll amnesty those who tell me where we can find lord Elrond's chief advisor, this I swear by my honour."

Looking back to Brandon, Legolas smiled evilly as he saw how the advisor tried to keep his friends, his family in check with his glare and keep them from telling him but to no avail.  
Shortly later Elrond saw out of the corner of his eyes how an elleth stepped forward, her eyes red-rimmed from crying but her face unhealthily pale. Elrond frowned as the healer in him examined her pallor and shaking. He saw how one of the Mirkwood guards grasped her arm tightly and pulled her towards himself, whispering something in her ear.  
Just as he wanted to call Legolas' attention to the woman, she pulled herself free and started to scream and curse and cry and rant. Elrond felt a chill running down his spine when she started screaming her accusations, as he could well imagine how she felt.

"No, let go Húrphen, LET GO! He's our curse, Brandon you're damned! You SCUM OF MORDOR! LET GO! HE KILLED MY BOYS! HE'LL KILL US ALL!"

"Shut up, Aereth!" An ellon called but Legolas intervened, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. "Let her talk!"

Sobbing she pointed at Brandon. "Dirty seducer! My boys, Brandon, my boys ..."  
Turning to her prince, she despairingly tried to reason, to intercede for those who were beyond mundane judgement. "They had nothing evil in mind ... they were young ... and naive, and they ... he promised them fortunes and power ... but HE got them nothing, he only got them killed ... Please, they ... they did not think straight! They meant no harm ..."

Legolas looked back to Elrond, shock apparent in his young eyes, asking for help from the ellon so much more experienced than himself.

Brandon saw the princes reaction with rising unease. Up to now he had been sure to be able to save his skin as long as they did not find Elethael. But now those traitors started to backstab him. He had to intervene now ... "Aereth lost all three of her sons three weeks ago in a hunting accident on which I took them. Now she blames me ... if anyone kidnapped this ellon, it was not *me*."

"Shut up, you liar!" another younger ellon called. "They brought him early this afternoon. Fiondil took him to their quarters ... Fiondil is ... they are married."

Elrond swallowed. It was already getting dark; Erestor's husband had had every time in the world to do with his chief advisor as he pleased. Forcing himself not to think of what was happening to Erestor in this quarters, he concentrated on the ellon standing in front of him.

"Can you lead us there?" Legolas asked.

The blond youth nodded. "Yes, my liege. But it's twenty minutes from here, I'd guess."

"Then let's make it in ten."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
Ellyn ~ male elves  
elleth ~ female elf  
telain ~ wooden platforms


	43. Screams In The Dark

**CHAPTER 43: Screams In The Dark**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
WARNING: OK, I think after the last chapters, especially Rage, this one doesn't really need a warning, but still a part of it starts where Rage left off, so some might find the situation somewhat disturbing.

So, here we go...

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Glorfindel felt the young guard behind him. Tauron had proven to be loyal and smart, so he had kept him close during their journey and chosen him to rely on now, while following the blond Mirkwood soldier through the dense undergrowth of this darkest forest.

Silently they tracked him down, an easy task as the soldier was more intent on quickness than on inconspicuousness now that he had left the outpost behind; besides: he was using a small trail that looked like a deer crossing at first but was in fact a well concealed elven path.

_**** Glorfindel, where are you? ****_

Elrond. His husband seemed excited somehow, he could feel the roiling emotions cursing through his mind as it came in contact with his other half.

_**** I'm following a guard. ****_

_**** We are lead south-east to Erestor. ****_

_**** Then I am, too. This guard is probably trying to warn Erestor's captors. ****_

Then suddenly Glorfindel halted; at his side Tauron directed huge alarmed eyes at him, filled with a question the answer they both dreaded.

Through their link, Elrond felt that something was horribly wrong.

_**** Glorfindel? What happened? ****_

_**** I heard him scream, Elrond. Erestor, I heard him scream, but he is still too far away. ****_  
Ten or fifteen minutes at least, the scream had been faint, he had almost not heard it, but still: it had been Erestor and he had been in pain.

_**** Oh Valar, Glorfindel! He is with his hervenn in their private quarters! Hurry, love, be quick! I am following as fast as possible! ****_

Tauron looked at his captain. The golden haired balrog slayer had gone frighteningly calm.

They had heard a scream, the advisor's scream he guessed. Lord Glorfindel's open face had mirrored his own shock, his own dark anticipation. But then it had changed within a second to an expression of dangerous, calm determination.  
The fabled lord of old had become that elf he had been in times long forgotten: the one that had stepped in the way of a fire demon, a mighty balrog, the one that had faced death only to come back stronger … the one that one would be wise not to meddle with.  
'And the one I am stuck with, lucky me!' The young guard thought.

"Quickly, Tauron. Follow me!"

* * *

For the last two hours Elladan and Elrohír had stumbled through the dark forest, not even knowing if they searched in the right direction. They had not seen any patrolling guards so far but that did not necessarily mean there were none. And there were many paths leading from the camp, how should they know which one would lead them to Erestor?

_**** Elladan, this is ... hopeless. We are losing precious time while that cockatrice is about to or already raping Erestor. ****_

Suppressing an angered sigh, the elder twin turned to his brother. _**** And what do you propose we do? ****_

Elrohír bit his lip and turned his head. _**** I don't know, gwanunig. But we are getting nowhere with this blind search. ****_  
Frustrated, the younger twin looked around. _**** Maybe we should turn back to the camp and see if we find something. This Aereth seemed to be quite upset, maybe she'd help us ... ****_

_**** And maybe she will give us away. ****_

For some moments a taut silence spread between the two of them. Then at the very same moment, both twins turned to look at each other with a horrified expression. "A Elbereth!"  
There had been a faint scream, shrill and agonized. It seemed the distant, horrible sound had slain all other noises and everything was oppressively silent.

"Was that ... " Elrohír whispered, although he knew the answer.

"Damn it, Elrohír! We need to find him. Come on!"  
And with that the elder twin vanished into the bushes into the direction that the scream had come from.

* * *

Fiondil immediately hurried to the bathroom, putting on his outworn trousers. If one of his family disturbed him now, they were in dire straits.

Erestor whimpered as his cousin left him exposed and vulnerable, tied to the bed. His wrists were raw and sore from the tight linen bonds around them and now that the continued stimulation had ceased the burning pain in his lower body surfaced again.  
He closed his eyes, humiliated at the thought how he must look, spread wide upon the bed, blood clinging to his abdomen and thighs.

Somehow he wished his cousin would return and end the torment he had begun. There was no way now that he would give in and the next few hours would probably be filled with a pain that in its nature would be so much more horrible than what he had had to endure from the Orcs' hands. Crueller, more intimate.

And now one of his blasted family was even drawing out his torment ... he only hoped that Brandon was not returning. He could not bear to be mocked now by his uncle, not in his current state. But somehow the hushed voice had not sounded like his hated uncle.

"Fiondil, it's me, Annael. Elrond is here!"

Erestor gasped, his head starting to reel. Elrond – Valar, that meant possible rescue. His breathing quickened.

"Take Elethael and bring him out, they must have heard his scream and will be here soon!"

Fiondil looked to his husband lying on the bed in the adjoining part of the room, his husband who was looking at him with a mixture of fear and hope. They had made provision against such a case, but now they seemed inadequate to him. He alone could not get Elethael into safety as planned; no, he would need help to keep his freedom-loving husband in check.

"Annael, you have to come with me. Cut him free and make him dress." He would get his weapons and clothes.

Erestor looked into his husband's eyes, begging him silently to not let Annael see him like this, but a moment later he saw Fiondil's best friend round the partition, a small knife in his hands. The blonde swallowed a little bit taken aback at what he saw on the bed although the dark ellon was not absolutely sure if the revulsion he saw on Annael's face was because of how he felt for his friend's husband or because of how the darkling was positioned on the bed.

Narrowing his eyes, the blond cut first the ties on Erestor's ankles, then on his wrists. Immediately the black haired advisor drew his legs close and sat up, facing away from his captor until a gentle touch on his shoulder made him turn around. There stood Annael, a sad and empathetic look in his warm blue eyes.  
"Come on, young one, get dressed, okay? Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Unbidden tears ran down Erestor's face. Valar, he hated how sentimental he had become but it was just too much, everything was just too much: Brandon, once again being made aware of the kinslaying on the Misty Mountain he had caused, his husband violating him, Elrond being here, coming for his rescue and he being forced to flee from his rescuers. And all this in one damned day.

In this moment Fiondil tiptoed forth from behind the partition, now fully dressed. One hand rested on the hilt of his long knifes to keep them from rattling, the other hand was raised, one finger laid to his lips, indicating Annael to be quiet and to silence the darkling that sat on the bed with his back towards Fiondil.

Annael immediately caught on and pressed one hand to Erestor's mouth to keep him from crying out, quickly turning the naked ellon around and drawing him against his chest. But in his already shaken state, Erestor immediately panicked and the moment he was grabbed, he started to fight against the restricting arms, kicking at everything in his reach, including the partition.

With a loud clang it fell to the rocky floor, revealing the cave's entrance and – standing right in front of it – the tall, frighteningly impressive figure of a very angry, very determined balrog slayer and the slightly smaller frame of another Imladrian soldier.

For the shortest part of a moment, the world around Erestor stopped turning.  
The last time he had seen this handsome, beloved face had been when Glorfindel had sent him home, following the ruse that should have ended the advisor's life and save the seneschal ... the blonde had been so angry. Valar this seemed to be ages ago. And now this anger was directed at the two Mirkwood soldiers holding him captive.

In the meantime Fiondil had hurried to the cave wall behind the large bed and pulling at a small lever he opened the hidden door to an escape tunnel. At the same time Annael had taken Erestor up into his arms, using the opportunity as the darkling had stopped fighting for some moments.

"Let him go!" Glorfindel growled and drew his bow, training it at the blond ellon that held the chief advisor close. He could see the hope in Erestor's eyes, pleading with him to end this nightmare, to free him, save him. But something held him back even as he saw how his protégé was being abducted once again into that black gaping hole in the cave's wall.  
He bended the bow a little bit further, knitting his brow in frustration. The darkling's eyes locked with his for one last moment and he could see his own realisation mirrored there: He could not slay one of his kin, could not draw a weapon against one of his own with the intention to kill.

A desperate, shrill scream wrested itself from Erestor's throat, echoing in the cave even after the two Mirkwood elves had pulled him from Glorfindel's field of vision. "GLORFINDEL!"

In the very same moment Tauron and the captain sprinted forward, trying to reach the escape tunnel before it could be closed. But it was too late: the stony door had already fallen into place again, blending in with the cave's wall.

Tauron immediately stemmed his weight against the wall but it did not yield.

"That won't work." Glorfindel crouched down, searching for the lever that this Mirkwood plagues had used. He stumbled for a moment, noticing that he had used Erestor's nickname for his captors.

Finding it, he pulled, pressed and tried to turn it but the door would not open.

"Maybe it can only be opened from the inside once this lever has been used." Tauron pointed out, biting his lips.  
Glorfindel cursed. What they had feared had become reality: Erestor was being abducted into the thick undergrowth of Mirkwood by one who knew the surroundings while Glorfindel and his men would stumble helplessly through that blasted forest.

_**** Glorfindel, what caused this scream? ****_

_**** It was Erestor. They fled through an escape tunnel, but it won't open to us ... quickly: ask your guide if there is a way through. Or else we'll lose him. ****_

For some gruelling long seconds there was only silence, but then he could feel Elrond's attention focusing on him again, his excitement flowing through their link.

_**** There has to be a second one below the bed, try this one. We'll be taking a shortcut directly to the exit of the escape tunnel. I'll be there in ten minutes. ****_

Then Elrond retreated and Glorfindel crouched down, groping around below the bed and soon his fingers encountered a small jut in the wall at the head of the large bed and pulled. Immediately there was a low abrading sound as the stone door of the tunnel ground against the floor.  
Glorfindel stood and turned to Tauron, who was standing beside the bed, looking at the light blue bed linen with a stony face. "There is blood." He informed his captain with a strangely emotionless voice. And indeed there was a smear of dark red on the middle of the bed and shreds of linen still clung to the posts. Erestor had been bound and raped. And so the bond had obviously been completed, lord Erestor of Rivendell was now bound to his cousin in front of the Valar and Eru.

The captain laid a hand on the young soldier's shoulder. "Let's hunt those demons down!"

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf


	44. Trysts

**CHAPTER 44: Trysts**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

On the back of the large eagle Gandalf had rushed north, following the Forest River's path until only the previous day had outrun the five long boats that Thranduil had sent out.

They had been met with drawn bows, by grim soldiers and the eagles had turned again, giving the elves a moment more to realise what they had nearly shot. When both parties finally came together on one side of the river, there were only few sentences spoken in explanation, neither Thalion nor Gandalf wanting any further deferring. They had spoken later on, though, during their journey. It had been hard for Gandalf, to bear the unsmiling, hard glances of those who had seen firsthand what Brandon had done to Erestor, in what decayed circumstances the wizard had left his own son in. But there had at least not been any open accusations, for which Gandalf was grateful. His own conscience was heavy enough as it was.

With the help of the two eagles, the group had journeyed on much faster, having the five long boats tied together and pulled upstream by their strong eagle companions with astounding speed.

And now they were close, very close.  
"Half an hour, I'd guess." Thalion said, turning to the wizard sitting behind him, his eyes blazing with an all-consuming fire. Once more Gandalf wondered how the frightened youth that Erestor had been when fleeing Mirkwood could have come to trust those men immediately. They were grim and reticent and they radiated danger.

But he was also aware that this might not be their usual behaviour. In those boats sat men on a revenge campaign. They still remembered Erestor's fear and they had taken him in, cared for him, comforted him when nightmares had plagued his sleep. And now they had set out to save the youth they had adopted as a brother four centuries ago.

Gandalf's gaze swept over the heavily vegetated river bench. Something was odd. He felt as if someone was observing them and he shifted his position slowly to watch around, mindful of the boat's balance. Suddenly he narrowed his eyes.  
On their left side something was hidden in the bushes, he could definitely make out wrought wood.

Apparently one of his eagle companions had seen it also. "Olórin, there is something in the bushes!"

Letting go of the ropes with which they pulled the boats the two eagles gave the elves the possibility to direct their boats to the river bank, while they themselves landed on the huge branches of one of Mirkwood's dark but strong trees.  
It didn't take long until one of the guards saw what the eagle had meant. Steering the boat to a bush that jutted into the river, he bent the plants apart. "It's a boat ..." he called to their captain "... but it's small. For two or maximal three men."

As his comrades held onto the bushes, the soldier climbed onto the river bench, to better observe the area. The other boats equally were directed to the benches.

Moments later the ellon appeared again, his mouth a grim line. "There are water flasks, packs of lembas and clothing in the boat. Someone hid it there in case he needed to flee swiftly."

"In case they needed to hide Erestor!"

The soldier nodded. "There is a path leading deeper into the northern woods. Thalion, I think we will find him there; but if we directly head for the camp, we will give them enough warning so they can bring him away."

Gandalf turned to Thalion. "We could use this to decoy them: let us go to the camp with two boats. The others wait here for Erestor's captors."

"Well then, Istar. You shall stay here with the great eagles and my brother Celairdúr. There is no need to let Brandon now that you have come here. I shall go and flush birds …"

* * *

Following their Mirkwood guide, Elrond and Legolas headed along the narrow elven path further into the thick forest, followed by the twenty Imladrian soldiers. They had not left anyone behind in the camp, not daring to split their – after all inferior – forces. If Erestor's kidnappers wanted to flee, they would and there was nothing that could keep the fifty soldiers.

But their path was a difficult one: narrow and overgrown and so even their elven eyes could just barely discern their way in the darkening forest, but they rushed on nonetheless with grim determination.

"How long?" Elrond asked tartly.

"Minutes ..." Came the short but calm answer.

'Minutes. Erestor has no minutes. Elbereth, let Glorfindel find him ...'  
Elrond pressed his lips tightly together, he did not dare to imagine the hell his councillor was currently living through. If only he had told them ...

So intent were the elves on making good way that they did not notice the pair moving directly into their direction until all of a sudden and yet long being in coming, two dark haired elves appeared right in front of them.

"Ada?" came the astonished outcry from the one of them.

"Elrohír?" Elrond answered equally dumbfounded. "Elladan? What by all the fourteen Valar are you doing here? Are you hurt Elrohír?" The elven lord added concerned at seeing his youngest son favouring one leg and arm.

Deciding to ignore his father's second question, Elrohír answered steadfast "Following Erestor. He must be here somewhere, we heard him scream!"

Curiously and yet impatiently the other elves looked on between father and sons. It was their young guide, though, who disrupted them before the chance encounter could take up more precious time, time they did not have.  
"Well, then you're searching in the wrong direction. Follow me."

And follow the blonde ellon they did, after Elladan and Elrohír had each gotten a weapon from their father's long after, the party broke into full run as another scream ripped the air, this time, much closer. And yet it was so different from Erestor's scream of pain that they had heard earlier. This was a death cry.

Soon the company of elves heard shrill screeching sounds filling the night and Legolas started to run faster. "Spiders!" He shouted as a warning to the Imladrian Elves behind him before he drew his bow and vanished in the woods.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ada ~ father  
ellon ~ male elf


	45. Spiders, Snakes and Slayers

**CHAPTER 45: Spiders, Snakes and Slayers**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

"Ouch! He bites!" Annael exclaimed angrily and let Erestor down to the ground, but he still held tightly on to the darkling's forearm, never releasing him.

"Elethael, you know I do not want to, but we are in a predicament and if you won't obey then I *will* hurt you. Do not doubt that!"

Even while being pulled forward by Annael and Fiondil, who was now holding a torch in one hand and leading them the way, Erestor dug his naked feet into the ground as best as possible and sank down to hinder their progress. But it was to no avail: Without much of a preamble Fiondil took him up and threw the light body over his shoulder.

Tears of frustration and anger ran down Erestor's cheeks. Glorfindel had had the chance to save him, but he hadn't taken it, had let Fiondil abduct him into this blackness.  
He desperately needed to stall for time ... and vent his pent-up anger.

"Ha! You want to hurt me? You already hurt me enough! And the cruelness of your actions released me from my promise!" Sneering at his husband who turned around to look at him, Erestor continued. "'As long as you are not overly cruel' I said. Thank you for *freeing* me, husband!"

Annael laid a placating hand on Fiondil's arm. "He is only trying to provoke you. Let it go for now."

Glaring at his husband's friend, Erestor continued his fighting in silence but soon the walls around them ended in a half overgrown hole and he was put on the ground again, though his cousin kept a tight hold on his wrist.

As Fiondil carefully looked outside to see if the coast was clear, Erestor eyed his hip, where the twin blades were attached to the belt. Could he dare this ruse a second time or was his hervenn prepared?  
'Worth trying'. Slowly he sneaked his hand forward around his husband's waist, trying not to touch him, all the while looking to the exit of the tunnel with a grim face.

Suddenly a steely, almost painful grip enfolded Erestor's wrist and he gasped with surprise, looking up into the cold blue of Annael's eyes.  
"Get your weapons out of his reach, Fiondil!" he said before taking off his belt and tying the darkling's wrists together. Then he took off his coat and laid it around Erestor's shoulders. Else the pale skin would surely shine through the dark forest, attracting too much attention.  
Taking hold of the hems he pressed them into their prisoner's hands, looking him in the eyes.  
"How about you use your agile fingers to keep the coat in place and to cover yourself, hmm? That way we won't have any more wandering hands."

Fiondil observed all this with a grim, satisfied smile, glad that he had taken Annael along. Without him, he would not have managed to keep his husband in check. His sweet little Elethael needed to learn his place it seemed. If he was not willing, he needed to force him.

Soon they were in the forest, making their way through the thick undergrowth. Every now and then Erestor hissed whenever he stepped on something sharp with his bare feet or when his sensitive skin came in contact with thorns and stinging nettles. His will to fight was overcast by the need to pay attention to their path. The blond ellon would pull him if necessary and he could not overcome the two of them and it hurt: walking barefooted through thorns and scrub hurt. Not to mention the stinging pain between his legs.

He did not know how long they had been walking nor in which direction but it mattered not, the only thing that did matter was that every single step was increasing the distance between him and his saviours.

Erestor kept his gaze trained on the ground, making sure not to stumble or step on something that could worsen the pain in his hurting feet; and so he missed what his captors saw and once again Annael's hand silenced the dark ellon, before he had the chance to cry out. Surprised Erestor froze and looked around as best as he could, as his husband's friend left him little room to move his head.

But there in front of him he could see what had his captors so unstrung: a group of five long boats, pulled by two great eagles, ploughed upstream through the deep water of the Forest River right in front of them, passing the small boat that was bound to a tree on the riverside the three elves were standing on – undoubtedly left there by Fiondil in case they needed to flee: it would be easy to escape pursuers taking a boat downstream while they had to fight their way through thick bushes and thorns.

The boats were occupied by elven warriors with the Greenwood king's insignia. But one held a silver haired old man with a ridiculously large hat. Erestor gasped, the sound being swallowed by the hand on his mouth. Mithrandir!  
And those soldiers. Valar he knew most of them. Thalion and most of his old unit, his saviours of old. 'Please ... turn this way! Look at the boat ... Saes.'

Suddenly Fiondil turned to him, raising a knife to his throat. "We will never be parted ever again, love. And if I cannot have you in this world, then we'll meet in Mandos' halls. Before I lose you to them, I'd rather kill you. Remember this when Annael releases you now."

Like a statue Erestor stood in the woods as he was released, looking at his cousin without the hint of an emotion. But Fiondil only pulled him close, pressing the small blade to his throat and turned to the river once again, hoping against hope that they wouldn't see the small boat lying there.

But they saw it. One of the eagles called out to his elven comrades and soon the five long boats were guided to the river bench. Fiondil cursed under his breath and looked to his best friend.

They were in a predicament now: the east was closed to them, as they could not cross the Forest River without a boat, the camp lied northwest and the west bore the danger of meeting other elven patrols.  
And the south was spider territory. Although ... their pursuers would probably not expect them to take that way and they could turn west after a few miles before encountering any spider nests.

"We have to go south and hide in the forest."

Pushing Erestor in front of him into the bushes, he followed, his knife held in front of him close to his husband's back. Annael observed all this with a sinking feeling. That was not the young man he had befriended so long ago. Something had grown within Fiondil, an all-consuming hate and anger ... and madness.  
The cruelty he had shown against the one he claimed to love ... he had seen the blood on the bed, had heard Erestor's pain-filled scream. Maybe there was nothing left of the smart bright ellon that Fiondil had been in his youth and the prospect frightened him.

Deeper they went into the forest, dark spreading around them like mist. They could barely see their hands and had no light to guide them.

Erestor's breathing hitched. He was lost ... maybe he could escape his captors in the shadows of the forest but where to go? A dark fear had taken hold of his heart, enveloping it in a cold grip. Something evil was lurking near.

"Please don't let us go any further, Fiondil."

But the blond ellon only pressed the tip of the blade into his shoulder. "This is your fault to begin with, Elethael. They did not know of us ... you must have told them! And that's why we are here. Now take the consequences."

Not much later they heard an eerie clicking sound to their left and they drew back. But then a similar sound appeared on their other side.

"Do they try to pacify us with sacrificial offerings now?" A voice before them shrieked.

There were small lights in the forest, small glimmering reflections on large eyes. "You lead us into a spider den!" Annael accused in a hushed voice. With a metallic clang the two blonde warriors drew their weapons.

"Nice little elflings. And not too bony either." Squeaked another of the giant spiders before it attacked, jumping down on Annael. But the warrior raised his blade in time and buried it to the hilt in the soft lower body, encountering little resistance as his sharp knife pierced the chitin shell.

"Run!" Fiondil screamed, grasping Erestor's arm and pulling him along, away from the spiders back to where they had come from, leaving his best friend to fend for himself.

But the spiders were quick and nimbly they ran through the trees, following their prey. "A knife, Fiondil! Give me one of your knifes!" Erestor called but his husband ignored him, only dragging him onwards.  
The dark advisor felt his throat contract in horror as he heard Annael's screams behind him, knowing that he would be next without a weapon.

Thusly distracted, Erestor stepped into a small hole and not being able to use his tied arms properly he lost his balance and fell awkwardly with a pained yell, Annael's coat falling from his shoulders. As his leg was still caught in the small hole, it was twisted and with a low pang one of the three ligaments in his left foot snapped, causing pain to explode in his ankle.  
Groaning, the darkling used his bound hands to free the hurting limb.  
Looking back at him, Fiondil hesitated but then jumped to his husband's side. "Get up!"

Taking his bound hands, Fiondil tried to pull the darkling up, seeing the spiders draw nearer but with an outcry Erestor fell back down right onto the green coat. Terrified eyes were directed to the cold calculating blue ones and in that moment Fiondil made his decision. It was over, they could not escape. But he would not let his precious one be eaten alive by those creatures. He raised his knife to pierce Erestor's heart.

The black haired looked up at him with large eyes, realising what was to happen now. He knew he could not change it, without a weapon, lying on the ground with an injured leg. Still, it was a fate he couldn't accept that easily.  
"Saes ..." But the weapon already came down on him, Erestor tried to roll away from his attacker though he knew it would be in vain.

The fatal blow never came; instead he heard Fiondil thudding onto the soft forest ground. Looking to his husband he saw him wrestling between the dead leaves and fir needles; Glorfindel on top pressed the other blond ellon down with his weight and tried to wriggle the knife out of his hands.

"Glorfindel! The spiders!"  
'Elbereth, help!' The dark creatures were nearly there and Glorfindel was busy dealing with his captor.  
With a pained groan, Erestor got to his feet and limped to his husband's side, grabbing his wrist tightly with his bound hands and digging his nails into the soft flesh to force Fiondil to loosen his grip on the long Mirkwood knife.

Just as he had pried the fingers loose, something hard but hairy gripped him; small claws drilled itself into his skin and with a sudden jerk he was lifted up into the treetops, a terrified scream being ripped from his throat.

The hairy spider had grabbed his chest from behind so as to make attacking it harder for the black haired ellon. Blindly Erestor tried to stab it with Fiondil's knife as he was pulled deeper into the darkness but he missed the head for it was out of his reach, only inflicting small cuts to the armoured legs. Then he felt the breath on his neck, sending shivers down his spine. It was about to bite him, to sink its chelicera into his flesh and poison him.  
With the pure force of desperation Erestor struck again, plunging the long Mirkwood knife directly between the plump eyes.

For a dreadfully long moment he was falling, crashing hard into twigs and branches before hitting the ground and he felt as if all air had been punched out of his body. Groaning with pain he tried to catch his breath and get into a relatively defendable position; which in this case meant to reduce the sides out of which he could be attacked: crawling backwards, he pressed his back against a large tree trunk and clamped the knife between his knees. Hurriedly Erestor moved the leather belt tying his wrists together along the sharp blade, cutting it away. A soft moan escaped his lips as blood rushed into the sore flesh.

Finally free, he looked around once more. He had lost all orientation during the fall: where had he come from? Where was Glorfindel? If he called out the spiders would catch him first before anyone could come to his rescue. But then again: spiders had an astounding sense for tremors and they must have felt him hitting the ground. They would soon be here anyway.

"GLORFINDEL!"

Nothing. Valar, was the captain dead? Had the spiders managed to bring him down? But Glorfindel was so superior, so strong, he could not imagine that anyone – or anything – could hurt him.  
'Elbereth, please, let him be alright!'

Then, distantly he heard his call being answered, but it was not the golden balrog slayer's voice, it was Thalion's.

Carefully looking around he made sure that there was no danger lurking near. But save for the carcass of the spider he had slain he was alone. Stepping out from behind the tree, Erestor made to follow his big brother's voice, hoping desperately that he would not encounter his husband and that the others were well.

The further he went the louder became the clamour of battle: the shrieking of spiders, the calls and shouts of orders, the screams, the sharp songs of Mirkwood bows. Swiftly Erestor moved through the dark forest, his raging emotions, his angst and hope making him forget his hurting feet.

Suddenly he felt a wave of ... something, an unnameable might wash over him and he heard an uproar of shrieks and cries. A rustling went through the trees and a moment later he pressed his body into a tree trunk, cowering down: Above him a mass of spiders fled through the tree tops south in the direction he had come from, emitting curses and hisses as they agilely climbed from branch to branch.

Intuitively Erestor knew that this had been a wizard's doing, though he could not think of a reason why he *knew* that to be the truth. A Maia had ended the fighting. Open-mouthed Erestor stared at the retreating mass of bodies, not noticing the body next to him. Thus, he was unable to react in time as a knife was pressed against his bare throat from behind. Erestor cried out in surprise and fright and a strong arm grabbed his sword arm, bending it behind his back painfully. "Let go!"

But the dark advisor only briefly closed his eyes and carefully relaxed his muscles. He had had enough: enough pain, enough humiliation and no longer would he bow his head. If it was Eru's plan that he should die here, then it should happen to his terms.

"No" he whispered, ignoring the agony that spread in his abused right arm, though his heartbeat was strangely calm. "Release me, cousin or be prepared to kill me. I will never again be your plaything, not for a second. Either way this marriage will end here for if you won't kill me, I'll kill you."

Still sitting on the ground, Erestor turned his head to look into the ice blue eyes of his cousin full of trepidation and hesitance and no small amount of anger. He knew the dilemma he put his husband in: with this proclamation Erestor assured that they could not live together for Fiondil would always have to fear his husband; but if he killed them both he would end their marriage in the most dramatic way possible and although they would both dwell in the halls of waiting they would not be together.

Fiondil buried his head in the crook of his hervenn's shoulder and neck, nuzzling the sweet smell. This was his, this body ... this soul belonged to him. He would, could not allow another to have what was rightfully his.

"Won't you reconsider?" he whispered against the naked skin, guiding his knife against the white back, holding it transverse so it could easily slide through in between the ribs and pierce his husband's heart.

Smiling regretfully, Erestor turned away from his captor. How he wished it would have come different, to go back and see Lindir and Elrond and Glorfindel. There were so many things he had never done and would never do. It was even more difficult to accept now that he had been so close to rescue.

"If I cannot have you, no one shall!"

A sudden pain erupted in Erestor's lower chest as the knife bored itself into his body and he cried out. Doubling over from the agony he heard Fiondil falling to the ground behind him.

Groaning he supported himself on the tree next to him. The shock from the pain clouded his thoughts and he directed unbelieving, teary eyes to his right abdomen, where the tip of Fiondil's knife protruded. Dark red blood trailed down his stomach and hip and onto his right leg.  
"A curious colour ..." he whispered and sank forward.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

saes ~ please  
ellon ~ male elf  
hervenn ~ husband


	46. Galadriel's Prophesy

**CHAPTER 46: Galadriel's Prophesy**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

"A curious colour ..." Erestor whispered and sank forward.

But before he hit the ground, strong arms enfolded him and guided him gently to lie on his side. Glorfindel's head appeared in his blurring line of vision and he grimaced at the golden framed face, in the awkward attempt of a smile.

"wondered where you were ..." He groaned as the pain in his abdomen flared up, bringing tears to his eyes.

"I am here, don't speak Erestor. Keep your strength, Elrond will doctor you up."

It took some moments before the meaning of Glorfindel's words registered with him, but as he felt gentle fingers probe the wound in his back he knew his lord was behind him.

"Don't ... don't let him ... we both know it's mortal ..." Erestor mumbled, tears of agony and grief trailing down his cheek; In a sickening way it was just ironic, really: now after 400 years of longing for death when he finally had decided that he wanted to live, he was dying. The weak smile faltered and died on his pale lips.  
"Just make him stop the pain!" He groaned out pleadingly.

"Stay for me, little brother, okay? Come on now!" Thalion begged, coming to kneel at the darkling's head.

Elrond leaned over his charge, seeing the dark blood and his eyes closed in dismay. Looking to his lover he shook his head.

"Do something!" Gandalf yelled next to him, trying to force down his tears.

But the peredhil only bit his lips, not being able to speak the words aloud. Directing the numerous grim and sad elves standing around him Elrond raised his clear voice "Give us some room. Elladan, secure the surroundings, prince Legolas ... if you please ..."

The son of Thranduil nodded, his throat tightening: everything had been in vain, they had come too late only by mere moments. Along with the majority of the warriors, the three princes left, leaving only Elrond, Glorfindel, Gandalf and Thalion.  
The wizard stood back, despairing. He had lost the true love of his life centuries ago and now that he was losing his only son ... a son that didn't even know him. There just did not remain enough time, not enough time to say everything that needed saying, to do everything that needed doing.

Breathing heavily, Erestor looked up to them. "I am sorry ..."

Thalion's finger on his lips hushed him. "No, there is nothing to forgive."  
Turning to Elrond, he begged him with his gaze to abnegate the cruel truth. "Is there nothing you can do?"

"That bastard tried to stab his heart but because of Legolas' quick reactions he actually slated and pierced his liver instead. See the dark blood there?" He inclined his head to Erestor's abdomen, where the dark red blood stood in sharp contrast to his white skin.  
"He is in shock, and the bleeding is severe. Probably it pierced some larger blood vessels and maybe his stomach, too. The moment I pull out the knife he will have minutes left. He is dying; bleeding to death. Legolas only bought him a small amount of time ... of pain-filled time." He said bitterly.

Glorfindel stroked the black tresses. Erestor had never seemed so helpless and vulnerable, so fragile. He closed his eyes.

_****I think I love him****_he told his husband through their link.

Elrond nodded shaken. _****I know, I feel something for him, too.****_

He leaned forward, not caring what the others would think, to kiss a soft cheek, hearing Erestor mumble something unintelligible in return. He saw the whip marks, the cuts, the burnings and the blood between his thighs and it tore at his heart. How he wished he could have spared Erestor all that.  
In front of him Thalion began to hum a lullaby, soft and sweet. Smiling through his tears as he remembered the soft tune, Erestor looked up to his brother for a moment until another wave of agony made him close his eyes. Thalion did not falter.

Elrond closed his eyes. He would not have been able to do that, keeping his voice calm to spend some last comfort. He felt so helpless.

Elrond narrowed his eyes.  
_a long Mirkwood knife will end his life. Prevent it!_

Anger welled up in him. They had come so far, he would not lose him now! Not now!

Taking a tight hold on his dark coat, he ripped it apart. Gently but quickly he sat down at Erestor's side and pulled the lithe body onto his lap, causing the dark haired ellon to groan in pain. Thalion observed him with narrowed eyes, new hope kindling in his heart. It seemed Elrond had some last plan.

But the peredhil only looked to his lover who was watching him warily.  
_****The moment I pull out the knife, press this cloth onto the wound as hard as you can. If you are willing, Glorfindel I will call upon my healing energy to sustain him and heal his organs. ****_

The blond gasped. _****That could kill you! ****_  
He did not want to choose between his lover and that dark sweet ellon.

_****That is why I will draw from your energy as well. You are the only one of whom I could ask this. Only the bond to you will enable me to use your energy as well. ****_

Glorfindel swallowed but nodded, taking the cloth from his lover. _****I love you Elrond. ****_

Elrond tried to smile, knowing it came out as a grimace as he was forcing back his tears. There was still a realistic chance that their life energy would not suffice to sustain the three of them and they all would die; a frightening prospect. _**** I love you as well. ****_

As Elrond ripped pieces of cloth from his coat, Gandalf looked up from his place some metres away where he had sunken to the ground and buried his face in his hands. The peredhel sat there with his now unresponsive son on his lap, careful to not move the knife in his abdomen around and obviously communicating with the balrog slayer. He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing?"

But Elrond ignored him and took a firm hold on the Mirkwood knife deeply embedded in his counsellor's back. Looking at Glorfindel and giving a slight nod he pulled it out, flinging the offending weapon into the bushes with a metallic thud. Immediately blood gushed out and Glorfindel pressed the cloth tightly to both wounds on Erestor's stomach and back. Elrond took hold of one of Glorfindel's hands, and replaced it with one of his own.  
_****Lay your free hand on top of mine, let me be the link.****_

Glorfindel did as he was asked. For a few seconds nothing happened but then he felt a pull. He gasped as he felt his strength flowing away from him into Elrond's hand, leaving him shaken and weak. He bend over to rest his reeling head on Erestor's shoulder, still trying his best to press on Elrond's hand and the wound beneath.

For a moment Glorfindel wondered if Elrond would, could stop in time but even that thought vanished out of his mind as he collapsed onto the two dark ellyn, effectively severing the link as his hand lost contact with Elrond's. Immediately Gandalf was at his side and eased the massive body to the soft forest ground, shortly checking his heartbeat before gazing intently to the lord of Imladris. "I hope you know what you are doing. Please bring him back to me."

The Half-Elf nodded wearily at the Maya, silently thanking him for taking care of his husband and promising Erestor's recovery in equal parts.

Briefly he looked to Glorfindel's sleeping form and smiled. He had intended to tire out his lover first and then force the bond to break. This way the blonde would not give too much of his life energy and could not hinder him to do so. Elrond continued to steer his strength into the battered body on his lap. Slowly he could feel Erestor's state stabilizing. And it was good as he had given as much as he could. Valar he had never felt that drained.

Almost closing the wound with the last sparkles of healing energy he closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep.

Amazed Thalion had watched the procedure; he had heard of lord Elrond's unrivalled healing abilities but to heal an injury like that ... He caught the brunet in his arms and laid him down next to Erestor and Glorfindel, whispering a "thank you" in his ear.

Gandalf shifted closer to his son with shivering limbs, needing the reassurance that the young one would really survive. His son. Erestor was still awfully pale due to the blood loss he had suffered but he would live.

Stroking a white cheek Gandalf realised that this was not the first time that he saw Erestor, but it was the first time he could really see his son – and touch him. Emitting something in between a sob and a joyous chuckle, the father took Erestor into his arms and cradled him close.

It felt so strange and yet so wonderful. This small broken body inhabited the fae of his son. He had passed him by, talked to him, and yet he had never known. His grey eyes roamed over Erestor's features, eagerly taking in every single detail of the beautiful face, desperately memorising them and trying to link them with his love. Lalaith.  
The darkling looked nothing like his mother, the closer he observed him, the more Gandalf became aware of the fact that Erestor did indeed look very similar to the form that he had once assumed, very long ago, when he had shaped his body to be like the Firstborn, before he had taken on the shape of the Secondborn, to be nearer to those that were so lively, happy and blessed in their own way with the short lives that they spend on Arda.

He should have known. Soft fingers stroke black strands of silken hair out of the pale face.  
Suddenly Erestor jerked in his arms, his face contorting in anguish. "Sshh Erestor, you are safe."

Slowly the small form stilled and Gandalf loosened the clasp on his coat with one of his withered hands and slipped the garment off his shoulder to wrap it around the naked form of the unconscious advisor.

"Thalion would you search for Elladan and Elrohír? They will want to see to their father and step-father and I want them to treat Erestor's feet. Moreover we should get them into safety."

The blond warrior nodded, smiling slightly. Everything was going to be alright now.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

fae ~ spirit  
ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves


	47. Princes

**CHAPTER 47: Princes**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

The three princes had surrounded the place where they had found Erestor with their warriors. Though for the moment they were safe, the spiders having fled, they still could not rule out the possibility of an attack: more so because they did not know if the Mirkwood elves in the camp presented a threat or not.  
As they had not enough warriors, they had not left anyone in the camp to guard them. They would not have been able to end open rioting to begin with so it would only have placed them in a potentially dangerous but useless position. Legolas had ordered the soldiers in the camp to stay and guard Brandon, telling them that everyone who tried to flee would be chased down and trialled but that they could improve their position by showing their good will.

Together they waited for the news of Erestor's death, and the waiting ate away at them. Especially Legolas was pale and shaken, standing next to the twins. He held his longbow in his hands, ready to nock an arrow if necessary.  
"I apologize." The blond prince said to no one in particular.

Elladan looked at him, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Why?"

"Because some of my people attacked you, kidnapped your father's chief counsellor and obviously violated him ... and mortally injured him."

Elladan shook his head. "You had nothing to do with this."

His brother turned to their host, smiling sadly. "Greenwood showed itself generous and accommodating to us. There is nothing to forgive."

Legolas nodded his thanks and all three of them fell silent again. Not long after the Silvan prince turned around and drew a deep breath. "It seems to be over, there comes Thalion."

Quickly Elladan and Elrohír turned, but they startled with a frown. Through the bushes, Thalion made his way to them ... smiling.  
"He lives ..." The elder soldier called out. Coming to a halt in front of the three shocked princes he explained "Lord Elrond and lord Glorfindel healed him."

Elladan felt his heart stop for a second, fearing for his father and step-father but then he told himself that the blond soldier would not smile if they had weakened themselves beyond help.

"They are sleeping, all three of them, Gandalf is with them. But he begs you to come and see for yourself if they are doing well and I fear that my ... that Erestor needs further medical attention, although he is not in a critical condition anymore."

Relieved, Elrohír smiled at his brother.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**


	48. The Other Version

**CHAPTER 48: The Other Version**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Two hours later the Silvan and Noldor warriors wandered north again in a long spread line, carrying the still unconscious elves on litters with them. They took them to the five boats to get them to the king's halls as fast as possible. Prince Legolas went with the majority of the Mirkwood warriors back to the camp to get the horses and to see that Brandon had not escaped.

His father would have to send more warriors to secure the area: due to the lack of men (a large part had been involved in the abduction of Erestor and more than half of them had not returned) the outpost had not been able to keep the spiders at bay thus the monsters had been able to spread that far. And an investigator was needed to solve out who was a culprit, who was a confidant and who had been unlucky enough to be at the wrong place to the wrong time. A tedious task.

All the while the remaining ten Mirkwood elves – along with the young ellon that had lead Elrond – guided the five long boats downstream where the Forest River would lead them to Thranduil's halls. The journey was easy enough as they only had to keep the boats in the middle of the stream and drift with the current, leaving them able to keep a close watch on the surrounding forest and on the three sleeping elves in their midst.

The moon had long since risen over the dark tree tops, shining the elves their way. It was amazing how the pale light brightened the old trees that had seemed so oppressive from below. The forest was sleeping and in its sleep had lost much of its hostile atmosphere.

Elladan in the second boat was watching over Glorfindel, a small smile playing around his lips as he felt the steady heartbeat below his finger that was gently pressed to the balrog slayer's artery. Looking behind he saw Elrohír holding their father in his arms and his smile widened, seeing the cheeky grin on his brother's face. Behind them Gandalf's boat followed with Erestor – all was well again.

A movement of the body in front of him told him that Glorfindel was waking up – almost six hours after they had healed the advisor; it was about time.  
Smiling down at his step-father he stroke a golden strand of hair out of the face and looked into sea-blue eyes. "Slept well?"

"As always: bad timing for your shrewd humour! Where are Elrond and Erestor ... did he ...?"  
Quickly Glorfindel sat up, looked around and - spotting his husband in the boat behind him – sighed relieved.

"Both are well. But they are still sleeping."

The balrog slayer shook his head, somewhat angered. "Elrond took my strength until I collapsed so I could not intervene ... he ... tricked me!"

The elder twin tried to hide his amusement – in vain. "Well, you're not the first one, mind you. And you'll not be the last one either."

But the captain looked back with a grim and sad face, he had been afraid for his lover before he had slipped away into nothingness. He could understand Elrond's reasons but he did not like them, knowing that if one of them died, the other would follow.

As he looked to his sleeping lover he caught a glimpse of Erestor, swathed in warm furs and coats, lying in Gandalf's arm. The old wizard stroke the black tresses and held Erestor close. 'He should be careful with his actions' Glorfindel thought 'this will confuse my Mirkwood plague to no end.'  
But he said nothing, letting the wizard savour the feeling of being a father as long as he could for the moment Erestor awoke he would not let anyone hold him, besides maybe those Mirkwood guards he had come to trust all those centuries ago. Though he observed with a smile how those guards eyed Gandalf suspiciously and indignantly as if they were displeased over his behaviour towards their charge.

Elladan followed his gaze and raised an eyebrow facetiously. "This is going to be very interesting: Our dear chief advisor will find that he gained a whole troop of guardians. They will drive him crazy: Gandalf is maybe the worst, but you should have seen our soldiers ... or didn't you wonder why he has at least six coats to warm him? Oh, it's going to be fun!"

Somehow Glorfindel doubted that.

* * *

The party made camp some hours later as the newly awoken Elrond insisted on checking on his chief advisor and contacting Galadriel; but he also wanted to hear how his sons and Gandalf came to be here and what Glorfindel had found. The lord of Imladris wanted to elucidate the past evening's happenings before they stepped in front of king Thranduil, although he did not speak of this to their hosts.

While all around him elves erected their camp and small fires that would keep the night's creatures at bay, Elrond went to see to Erestor. Two of his soldiers had readily carried the bundle of fur and coats ashore where Elrond now bowed over the pale body, probing the wounds and listening to his sons' recount of their encounter with the great eagles, Gandalf and Erestor and how Fiondil had recaptured his cousin, forcing him into a bond by threatening the twins' lifes.

Elladan and Elrohír had cleaned Erestor's body from blood and dirt as best as they could in the forest, eliminating every indication of the sexual assault the young advisor had suffered through and for that, Elrond was glad. But the numerous scars grieved him; although he knew that they would vanish in time they were bound to have left their equivalents on Erestor's soul. Hopefully his advisor would be strong enough to leave the past behind one day.

Still the famous healer was impressed by the quickness with which the wounds from the torture at the hands of those vile Orcs and from the attempted murder by Fiondil were healing.  
Even the small cuts on Erestor's feet from his flight through the forest had already started to close.

"Don't forget that he is half Maia. I'd be worried if he would heal any slower." Gandalf intervened. "But why has he not woken, yet?"

Elrond looked to his old friend. "Because he lost a large amount of blood. Although we healed the damage done to his organs, his body is still recovering from the blood loss. I expect him to wake soon though and if he does he should not be confronted with too many faces he does not expect to see."

"In that case, my lord, I 'd suggest me. I am Thalion's brother and Erestor trusts me." With a rather cold stare the blond ellon added "Please correct me if I am wrong, but I thought none of you were his friends."  
Elladan and Elrohír glared at the soldier's outrageous disrespect. His name was Celairdúr and although he had proven to be courageous and fiercely loyal in battle he had up to now shown his dislike of the Noldor quite openly.

Glorfindel almost growled. "It's not that we didn't try."

"Exactly. Meaning that Erestor obviously did not care for your friendship or else he would have accepted it."

Elrond laid a hand on his lover's shoulder, trying to calm him.

Unbelievingly Gandalf watched them arguing "That can't be happening!" he murmured before speaking up with a voice that left no room for objections.  
"Stop now, all of you! Elladan, Elrohír, you are going to watch over him."

Surprised, the twins turned to the old wizard – as everyone else.  
"With your dark hair he is not likely to mistake you for someone of his family, firstly; and secondly he sacrificed himself for the two of you, so he obviously cares for you. Thirdly: Elrond needs to recover, too and you are healers as well and fourthly: " he pointed at the Mirkwood elves "I don't want you squabblers around my son right now."

Elladan leaned to his brother, whispering "as I said, it's going to be fun!" which earned him an elbow in his ribs.

Soon the twins had comfortably settled down on the ground next to their charge while the others were preparing for a light meal and some hours rest before they would continue their journey.

Elrohír sat next to his brother, leaning against Elladan with closed eyes, dozing quietly. The elder of the twins closely watched their charge who was stirring in his sleep. He carefully reached forward to stroke Erestor's cheek comfortingly without disturbing Elrohír and break through the impending nightmare the advisor suffered from.  
The small gesture did its deed and soon the wrinkles on the pale forehead smoothed out.

To Erestor's other side their young Silvan guide appeared and sat down. Elladan looked up for a moment, wondering over the blonde. Truth be told he did not want him near the black haired advisor, he mistrusted him still. Maybe he had just tried to save his own skin by helping them, who could tell?

"What's your name?"

"Lainon."

Elladan nodded with an unreadable expression in his young face. "And may I ask why you helped us, Lainon?"

The blonde narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Do you want to know why I helped you or why I didn't prevent this whole mess by speaking up earlier, possibly in king Thranduil's court?"

The eldest prince of Imladris cocked his head at this pert impudence. It was true that he was not one for etiquette but he was not used to a lack of respect shown to him either. "Both, I guess."

It seemed that Lainon retreated into himself within moments, suddenly sombre and serious. "I don't expect anyone to understand. Brandon is a master of deception ... Do you really want to hear about his ... about this?"

He did not wait for Elladan's nod before proceeding "It started in a subtle way. Lalaith was dead, Brandon took her newborn child in, took care of him. None of us was aware of the fact that Brandon knew who sired the child." His gaze sought out that of Elladan, somehow pleadingly.  
"Growing up he ... the boy had always been different. He did not speak until his fifth birthday and was very reclusive in other ways as well, so no one was surprised that he was more inside than outside.  
Only when Brandon all of a sudden became one of king Thranduil's most valued advisors he told us that the child had the gift of foresight."

He paused, obviously caught in his memories. "He used his position to keep our family together here in this northern outpost, far away from great peril; he prevented our brothers and friends from being sent to the dangerous southern parts of Greenwood. He gave me the chance to study with the best healers of Thranduil's court ... It was so easy not to object ... we ... we seldom saw the boy."

"Erestor!" Elrohír hissed. He had heard Lainon tell the story, getting sick with the objectification those elves were using to calm their conscience.

"What?" The blond seemed confused at the interruption.

"Erestor! That is his name. Why don't you call him by his name? He is real as well as the suffering that he endured because *you* decided to close your eyes! Elbereth, he started fading when he was not much older than *three decades*, decades, not centuries! A mere child! You were training to be a healer while right under your very nose a child was harrowed until the thought of continuing his life and misery became too much to bear!"  
The younger twin had risen to his feet during his last sentences and his voice had grown with anger and volume until he was almost shouting at the poor Lainon.

"Elrohír!" Elrond exclaimed alarmed, hurrying over to them along with Gandalf.  
Still quite furious the younger twin looked down, where Elladan was trying his best to console Erestor who had opened his eyes wide in terror and was trembling violently.

Immediately Elrohír went to crouch down and help, regretting his outburst, but a hand held him back. "I'm sorry, I did not want to ..."  
But he was not given the chance to end his apology as he was pushed aside by Thalion's brother and told to stand back. It was Glorfindel who laid a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Come, young one: Too many cooks spoil the broth. Don't fret, you have a strong sense of justice but you and your brother sometimes need to control yourself just a bit more."

But the young prince cringed every time he heard Erestor whimper and it was not long before he could make out hoarse words in between the desperate sobs and fearful moans.

"Extinguish it! Elbereth, he lives ... help him! Saes ... "

"Erestor, wake up!" came Elrond's commanding voice. But it was not long ago that he had exhausted himself by healing his chief advisor's mortal stab wound and he had not much healing energy to spare and it seemed that the dark haired ellon could not awake on his own.

"It's not a nightmare, it's a vision!" Lainon tried to get the other's attention, failing as Erestor started to fight in earnest against Elrond's and Elladan's restrictive hold and they were quite challenged by only holding him down and keeping him from harming them or himself.

"You cannot stop a vision, you need to support him in distinguishing between present and future!"

Gandalf looked to the young blonde, his eyes narrowed. "And how?" he calmly asked and saw Lainon blush weakly, before he blurted out "pain: a slap or a pinch ..."  
He obviously felt uncomfortable having to tell those details but he did nonetheless and it was maybe that little moment that would earn him the wizard's support and defence.

The wizard strode forward, pushing aside those who stood in his way without wasting a thought as to whom he was snubbing. Reaching his son he pressed past Elrond and slapped the dark haired ellon once, twice before he heard the moans and ranting subside.

Flabbergasted Elrond looked at his friend and he would have lashed out at him had not Erestor's small voice claimed all of his attention.  
"Elrond? Don't let him burn him alive."

Glorfindel closed his eyes for a moment, remembering how he had woken the advisor in a similar way when he had dreamt of finding Elrond on the top of the High Pass.

Erestor meanwhile started hyperventilating as he saw stonewalls and trees overlaying each other, fire and humans where elves stood at the same time. Desperately he tried to make out what was real and on what he should concentrate. Clenching his eyes shut against the present he focused on the future to erase what he saw there in the image he had of the presence around him.  
Slowly the tactic he had taught himself paid off and he managed to calm down though he still felt shaken and trembled in Elrond's arms. Elrond's arms ... oh Elbereth! He was being embraced tightly by *his lord*.

Erestor tried to sit up and escape the bodily closeness but he felt so weak and was immediately pushed down again by strong hands. "Elladan!" he whispered.

"Yeah, I am here. Thanks to you I might add."

Erestor's breathing still came hitched and ragged. There was just too much to take in and his mind was not working the way it should. Somehow everything had descended into Chaos and he was not sure if it was for the better or the worse.

Overwhelmed he closed his eyes again.

Elrond frowned worriedly. He had hoped the dark ellon to wake in a more controlled setting and not that abruptly with so many faces around him.

"Hush. You are weak because you lost a large amount of blood. And do not worry about anything: Everyone is safe now, Brandon convicted and Imladris is in good hands with Galadriel and the great eagles. You can rest assured ... but stay awake only for some moments longer, you need to drink something."  
The Half-elf begged his eldest son to get him water but moments later he felt his counsellor's breathing even out as he escaped once more into lord Lóriën's gardens.

A sigh escaped his lips and he searched his husband's gaze for comfort, relieved to feel his presence in his mind. Well ... two or three hours would not harm him too much.

"He needs to sleep and gain strength. I will *strangle* everyone who wakes him up during the next hours."  
Gently Elrond tried to lay down his charge, but the pale hands clasped at his shirt, not letting him go. So he allowed it and held the small body close.  
But he directed his stern gaze at Lainon and asked him with no small amount of suspicion. "And how came you to know so much about his dreams and visions and how to treat him?"

The blonde nervously noticed how he was cornered by the other soldiers. "I have never done this before, I swear! When he was small Brandon only trusted his sons and his siblings with Erestor's care."

Desperately he noticed that this did nothing to ease the hostile feelings directed at him.

_****Elrond, love. You have to interfere. Legolas promised him pardon ... ****_

_****Do not worry, Glorfindel, I will not let any harm befall him. But I want to hear his reasons. ****_

"What would you have me done? Over years and years Brandon integrated a reign of terror without us even noticing! Convincing the naives with promises of riches and power ... of guidance and protection and keeping the others in check with the pressure of friends and family.  
I am nothing more than a low healer, no one would have believed me had I charged him without any proof ... and I do not doubt for a moment that Brandon would have killed me or anyone else trying to bring word to king Thranduil."

Lainon turned to Elrond, taking hope as the old wizard came to stand next to him to lay a calming hand onto his shoulder.  
"Brandon sent me to learn the healing arts in the king's halls and when I came back ten years ago he told me that he would bring Elethael ..."

"Erestor!"

"... yes, yes ... Erestor ... that he would bring him back and that he needed me to help care for him. Magron was not versed in healing and he did not want Fiondil near. I knew that if I was to stop this, I needed to wait until there was proof for Brandon's dark deeds."

"How convenient for you that we came before you had to prove that you would hold true to your noble intentions!" one of the Mirkwood guards hissed.

"Stop this now. He did not have to help but he did, revealing much in the process and nothing in his favour!" Gandalf tossed in. "I'd say everyone rests for some hours more before we continue our journey."

Only gradually and with much grumbling the elves turned away to settle down again.  
They were warriors, they risked their lives for the sake of others, for each other ... because they could do it and because it was the right thing to do; Lainon had treated that ideal with contempt and could not ask them now for understanding. He had flinched and turned his back at the suffering of a fellow elf and this behaviour couldn't be excused. It was as simple as that.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf


	49. Waverer

**CHAPTER 49: Waverer**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Night had fallen on Imladris and the Last Homely House gleamed in the silver light of dozens of small lanterns, a radiant beacon surrounded by the darkness veiled woods. Soft singing filled the air, entwining with the gentle rustle of the trees and the distant rushing of the waterfalls. 'A calming mixture of noises', Lindir thought as he lay curled up beneath the rose bushes, looking up at the stars blinking through the blackened leaves.  
Nothing, it seemed could stop the course of the Imladrian nights, only the nature of the songs.

It had been a week now, a terrible long week since Haldir had taken his leave together with his brothers and Lindir felt more hopeless with each passing hour, the worry for the black haired advisor and the silver haired marchwarden keeping him far from Lóriën's garden. Somehow the whole situation had seemed much more conquerable with Haldir around.  
He missed the serious marchwarden.

Soft footsteps invaded his wandering mind, and the white haired minstrel looked out from his not so secret hideout only to gaze at a pair of sparkling eyes. Sighing deeply, Lindir gathered his clothing and scrambled out from under the thick rose bushes – of white roses, as he remembered Haldir's advise very well. Valar, this was so undignified.

Finally coming to a halt in front of the beautiful elleth, he grudgingly raised his eyes to glare at her. "Lady Arwen, to what do I owe the honour?"

"Oh, Lindir!" the youngest member of the peredhil family chuckled, "What are you doing out there all the time?"

Having the grace to blush at his unseemly behaviour, Lindir dropped his gaze, not knowing what to answer.

"If you weren't so intent on hiding, you would have been informed at least two hours ago, that Erestor has been found and is safely on his way to king Thranduil's halls."

"They found him?" The minstrel blurted out, shocked into utter and complete confusion, his heart missing a beat before returning back to work with newfound and somewhat gleeful zeal. Bolting forward, he threw his arms around the dark haired lady in a fierce hug. "When, how? What happened? Is he well?"

Pulling back again, he caught Arwen's amused expression. "Father contacted grandmother two hours ago. Apparently they freed him only this very evening. They didn't talk for long and all I know is that he lives and is now being brought to Thranduil's court; which is a good sign, as it means that no one is injured too severely for travelling."

Chuckling in joy, Lindir performed a jaunty turn around himself "Oh I simply love you for being the bearer of such wonderful tidings! Now everything's going to be alright if only ..." he stopped in between his movements. 'If only Haldir would be safely back' he wanted to continue. Was it really like that? Had the marchwarden become the most important person in his life next to Erestor during the few days that he knew him? How was that possible?

"If only what, Lindir?" Arwen inquired, smiling gently, very aware of the minstrel's affection.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Lindir gazed out into the darkness. "If only our soldiers were back and Imladris safe."

Arwen shook her head, sending her black locks swinging. "I see."  
So Lindir was not yet ready to accept his newfound love, was he?

"Do you by any chance mean a particular soldier?"

She could see Lindir freezing at her words. "I am just concerned for them." He answered elusively.

"For who?"

"For them."

"For Haldir?"

Silence. Then after a moment "For him, too."

"He is going to be back in a few days, you know? The eagles tell us that the army of Hillmen has almost been wiped out by the Orcs that Mithrandir spoke about. The remaining Orcs are too few to pass Nenya's defences. The armies were well matched.  
And grandmother calls her marchwardens back now as it won't take long until my father returns and she will leave again."

Lindir swallowed. Haldir was coming back only to leave right away? "That is good to know." He murmured, somewhat dazed.  
Why hadn't he thought of that?

A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "Use your time wisely, Lindir. Waverers ever run the risk of having life pass them by."

With that she turned and without glancing back she strolled away through the rose gardens, leaving the young minstrel behind with a pensive face.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

elleth ~ female elf


	50. Blunder

**CHAPTER 50: Blunder**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Two days later Thranduil was informed that the party to the northern outpost was returning not only with lord Elrond's chief advisor but with the peredhel personally, along with his sons, Gandalf and that balrog slayer.

How he had hoped that Gandalf had been wrong. For long years he had valued Brandon's advice although his counsellor had withdrawn over the years, had been reserved even in his council chambers. Soon he would have to face the reason and look into his dark eyes. He would have to justify himself in front of those Noldor, justify why Brandon had been able to contact the people of Angmar, making them march against Imladris, why he had managed to send a whole unit along the High Pass to attack the Imladrian lords and kidnap Erestor and return to their outpost and all this without anyone noticing. And the worst was: he had no justification.

Better to get it all over and done with and meet his guests with the due respect.  
With half of his court assembled Thranduil awaited the arrival of the five boats on the piers of his city. Silence enveloped them like fog, oppressive and chilling. None of the king's subjects dared to speak, not even whisper, unwilling to draw Thranduil's attention as the blond king had seldom been that disagreeable.

It was therefore to everyone's relief as the long boats came into sight, flowing nearer with the Forest River's current.

* * *

Elrond sat behind his advisor, holding him close with one arm. Erestor had not talked much through their journey and had aside from one occasion not asked any questions about the last week's happenings and they had not told him either, granting him much needed rest.  
'Where is my raven, where is my Mordhroval?' he had asked and met silence for none had thought much about the bird and none of them knew what had befallen the loyal animal.

As gently as he could, Elrond had told the young chief advisor that the bird had never reached his destiny and that Fiondil had most likely shot the poor thing to prevent it from getting help. This time there was no biting comment about the curious friendship between raven and raven-haired advisor.

Since then he had slept through most of their journey although Elrond highly suspected that Erestor had mostly pretended to be asleep. The peredhel had not commented on that behaviour in front of the others as he felt that it was not the time to address Erestor's way of coping with the traumatic events. Elrond had however, together with Glorfindel, taken to gently care for the darkling and getting him some much needed rest before he would have to tell his tale in front of Thranduil and his advisors that he had overtrumped for all those years.

Now he felt Erestor stiffen in his arms as those advisors and their king came into view and he tightened his embrace reassuringly for a moment, before they reached the pier where Thranduil straightened even more – if that was possible – and servants rushed forward to secure their boats and help them climb out.

Elrond took the hand extended to him and gracefully stepped ashore. Immediately Glorfindel was at his side, the blonde shortly brushed the back of his lover with one hand before turning to the darkling still sitting in the boat.  
"Can you walk?"

'Of course I can walk, could have done so before if you but had let me. Just as I didn't need you to help me drink when I first woke, didn't need you to handle me like a frail glass sculpture about to burst in millions of sharp splinters, didn't ... oh damn it all!'  
Erestor resigned himself to a nod and a murmured "Yes, my lord" as he could not throw a tantrum here in front of everyone and furthermore the elf lord's rank demanded his respect.

But Glorfindel had seen the fleeting shadow pass over the pale face. Stooping he laid a strong arm around the advisor's shoulders and pulled him up gently. "I can walk, really there is no need to ..."

"Hush, it's alright." Glorfindel shushed him, lifting him onto the pier. He had felt his charge shiver slightly against his chest and concerned he looked to Elrond, hoping that the young one would not start to fade again. "Are you cold?"

Never would he have guessed that the tremor and Erestor's unusually reserved protest against his help was more due to his nervousness at being so close to the attractive seneschal and being the center of everyone's attention than to his physical condition. "I'm fine, really!"

All the while Thranduil had stepped closer, observing the scene with well-concealed amusement. It seemed that the darkling had intelligently decided not to protest too much against the needless help as it would only have caused much furore and been of no use in the end; or the advisor was simply overwhelmed with the situation.

"Lord Elrond, lord Glorfindel. I am sorry that we meet again under these conditions, but I am glad that you have been successful." He nodded his greetings to Gandalf before turning again to the dark ellon leaning more or less involuntarily against the much taller balrog slayer.  
"Welcome, lord Erestor, in Greenwood. I profoundly regret the wrongs committed against you by my people and I promise you that the culprits will be punished severely."

"For your friendly words I thank you, my liege. And I assure you that no ill-will" He did not continue as he became aware of Elrond standing next to him. He could not speak for Imladris as her lord was present and would represent her. Glancing to Elrond he started to fidget at seeing his risen eyebrow.  
"... that is ... as far as I am concerned ..."

"... it will not be the cause of a rift between our realms, king Thranduil; not for Imladris." Elrond continued smiling slightly at his chief advisor's stumble. "I should inform you that prince Legolas decided to stay with captain Thalion and help secure the area. We have had some problems with spiders."

"I already sent guards for reinforcement when Gandalf paid us such an unexpected courtesy visit."  
The king winked at the old wizard, merely getting a raised eyebrow in return.  
"But we had a long journey, king Thranduil." Elrond interfered, only wishing to get his chief advisor away from the crowd and preferably into a bed in Thranduil's healing wing, where he could be examined and watched over by skilled healers.

"And rooms have been prepared for you. Come, rest for now and I shall hear your tale, lord Erestor, as soon as the culprits have been brought to this court." Turning to Elrond he added with an almost teasing sparkle in his green eyes "If his condition allows that is."

Elrond frowned for a moment, not knowing how to handle the situation. Was Thranduil teasing him? Judging by the smiles of the Silvan elves around him he was but given the severity of the situation ... Bewildered and a little bit irritated he looked to Glorfindel who was still supporting the more than one head smaller advisor. But Erestor had straightened and raised his head high.

Before Elrond had a chance to interfere he broke away from the balrog slayer and boldly met the king's gaze. This was enough; even though things had not worked out exactly as he had planned them and even though he had needed to be freed from a more than compromising situation and needed to rely on elves he had not spoken privately to ever, he would not be played for a fool.  
"With all due respect, my liege, I do not need your mockery!"

"Erestor!" Elrond called out, appalled, but his advisor did not back away.

Thranduil shot a side glance at Gandalf, surprised at the darkling's sudden outburst.  
But his friend had only raised both eyebrows at him as if to say 'You better amend your sorry behaviour or I will make you feel sorry.'

The king took a moment to observe the rather short black-haired ellon that stood defiantly before him, jaws set firmly and he understood for the first time the deep routing trepidation his advisors had for lord Elrond's chief counsellor; even though he was well smaller than the tall Mirkwood king he somehow managed to tower over him with an air of menace surrounding him. But to Thranduil it was also apparent that Erestor was not nearly as self-assured as he pretended to be or he would not have reacted on the king's comment; it seemed that his nerves were still fairly raw, more so than he had anticipated.  
His advisors had never seen the self-conscious young ellon that lashed out at others to protect himself.

To underline his sincerity he laid a hand on Erestor's shoulder, feeling the other elf flinching as Erestor tried not to give in to his instincts and shake off the hand that felt restricting to him. The king bowed slightly forward to look into those silver-black orbs before he answered. "It was not my intention to mock you. Indeed I was mocking lord Elrond and Glorfindel for their obvious overprotection."

Elrond pursed his lips and raised a critical eyebrow but Glorfindel next to him smiled, accepting to be the target of the king's banter as long as it stayed friendly and made Erestor feel better. Although it was impossible to say if king Thranduil's somehow ... different ... kind of humour was really affecting Elrond's chief advisor in a positive way: the darkling's jaw dropped as he looked up at the king of Greenwood, scandalized at this lack of respect shown to his lord.

"Come now ..." Thranduil continued. "... as son of Mithrandir ..."

Erestor's mouth shut close and he drew back, the last bit of colour leaving his already pale face.

"Thranduil!" Gandalf growled, shocked at the horrible mess the king had caused with a simple comment of not more than four words. He looked to the son who had not known the identity of his father only moments ago. Erestor had whitened impossibly so, swaying for a moment on his feet so that Glorfindel reached forward to steady him. "Be careful." Erestor heard him murmur softly but it did not really register with him.

"... you are always welcome here." The king finished his sentence with a whisper and a sinking feeling. They had not told the advisor that the old wizard had sired him ... how could they withheld such an important information? Had he only known ...

Not looking away from Thranduil Erestor swatted Glorfindel's hand away, refusing his support. He felt deceived, embarrassed, even a little bit nauseous as he was well aware of the other assembled elves' attention that lay solely on him.

It was not only the shock at learning that one of the mighty Maia had sired him – although that alone would have been frightening enough, he had long ago deduced from his fast healing rate and unusual gift of foresight that he couldn't be fully elven– it was that no one had *entrusted* this information to him.

Had Gandalf not wanted to tell him because of his actions, because of the elves that he had killed on the High Pass and the soldiers from Imladris that had died defending the peredhil family?  
Forcing himself not to look at his father he tried to keep the tears at bay. Mithrandir was ashamed of him. The Maia knew that the curse of the kinslayers hung upon his very head.  
He suppressed the need to cover his mouth as he realised that he was damned. 'Elbereth!' he pleaded in his thoughts but then he wondered if the lady would even listen to one the Valar had forsaken.

Desperately he tried not to lose control in front of the elves standing around him, watching his every move and slowly he calmed – at least outwardly. How he hated it when those sensationalistic elves were observing him like this, waiting for him to show weakness.

Pale but steady Erestor stood in front of Thranduil and with a faked smile he bowed to the king, albeit slightly. "I thank you, my liege for your hospitality and your assistance in ... this affair; but as lord Elrond already said: we had a long journey. And you were of course right – so please forgive my inappropriate behaviour – my *condition* bids me to rest."

Dazed Thranduil nodded before he had some servants lead Erestor to the healing wing where his healers could further tend to his injuries (and watch over the unstable ellon), staying back to lead the others away to the guest quarters they were assigned to.

Thranduil turned to the old wizard "Mithrandir, I am ..."

"... truly sorry. Yes, I know." Gandalf grumbled. "But this was definitely not the way I intended to tell him; nor was it the reaction I hoped for."

"My liege, may I accompany Erestor?" Celairdúr asked. "I do not want him to be alone especially now. And our guests should rest."

Before Thranduil could give his permission Gandalf interfered "No, child! I will talk to him first and sort out this mess."

"Do you even listen to yourselves?" Glorfindel exclaimed angrily. "Once again you all stand here, discussing his reactions, his life, not letting him have a word in it. Go and find out if *he* wants to see any of you at all."

Elrond observed the crowd during the following awkward silence. He knew that Gandalf was terribly afraid to lose every chance to win his son's affection and that fear made him overly cautious, which in turn would only drive the darkling further away. The Mirkwood guards on the other hand had heard for centuries about the tales of the disliked haughty chief advisor of Imladris fading away for some unknown reason and they had grown to despise the elves from the Hidden Valley for their assumed part in it.  
And then there were the Imladrian elves that had just realised that Erestor was not the self-righteous, egocentric ellon they had thought him to be. Driven by compassion, guilt and indebtedness towards their saviour they now sought to protect him at all costs; it was an already more than explosive mixture.

But he and Glorfindel ... Elrond could not forget their conversation when they had healed Erestor. 'I think I love him' Glorfindel had said. The two lovers would have to explore their exact feelings for the black haired beauty but right now there were just too many parties with contradicting aims and therefore someone should stand back even though he would prefer not to be that one.

"He is right. Erestor will make his own decision and you should not strive to influence him. But he is your son, old friend and he is troubled. Go to him and see what you can do. Celairdúr, maybe you should go, too."

"I will heed your advice, Elrond. King Thranduil? My usual chambers?" Gandalf inquired.  
"Yes." The king paused before addressing all his guests anew. "My friends, you are welcome to join me and my people tonight in the forest to celebrate your safe return and the success of your endeavour. For now: rest from your journey's exertions."

And with that the Imladrian elves were led to their quarters where hot baths had been drawn whilst the king had welcomed his guests.  
The few Mirkwood guards under Celairdúr's command stayed back to give word to the king about his son's whereabouts.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

peredhel ~ half elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
ellon ~ male elf


	51. Consolation

**CHAPTER 51: Consolation**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Erestor entered the healing wing, feeling exhausted and numb, and let the healers handle him, let them guide him to a soft bed with white linen sheets.

"Please disrobe, my lord." A healer bid him and he looked around.  
Blond, why did all those elves here have to be blond? It was a rare colour for Imladris and it had made him feel better, safer. Thinking about it there had never been a dark haired elf who had directly or indirectly tried to really harm him. Even Faelon had only openly despised him for his quick promotion.  
Eru, he did not want to have to disrobe in front of yet another blond, being stared at with *that* look once again. His arms twitched as he fought to keep them from drawing around him, he could not afford to show weakness; certainly not while that man was observing his every move.  
Could he simply refuse?

The healer must have felt the other's discomfort as he patiently smiled at Erestor. "We need to see to your injuries, lord Erestor. In here you are my patient, nothing more, nothing less."

The healer's gaze was clinical but stubborn, which oddly reassured and troubled Erestor at the same time. This man had obviously no further interest in him than that of a healer, but that interest was strong and unyielding, it seemed. He was obviously set on having his way. For a moment Erestor contemplated his chances of refusal once again, but he felt so damn weary already.  
And then, he thought, it was not as if that healer had any reason to see him as anything more than a patient. After all it was not as if anyone else besides Fiondil had ever wanted to claim *him*, not even his father, and Fiondil was insane and therefore didn't count.  
That made him feel less nervous, but not any better.

Nodding curtly, the black haired ellon loosened the cord of his tunic – Thalion's tunic to be accurate – and pulled it over his head, revealing his scarred chest and abdomen.  
"They have closed. Lord Elrond healed the internal damage." He murmured.

"May I?" The healer inquired, careful to not upset the already spooked advisor further, and waited for the hesitant nod before he proceeded to probe the half-healed wounds and scar tissue.  
"Please inform me if you are in any pain."

Erestor observed the ellon tending to him, noting how his jaw clenched as the scars told him their story and Erestor knew that this one was familiar with such injuries, had seen his fill of battle wounds.  
He had expected pity, but not that angered frown, that indignantly pursed lips, and somehow it left him shaken, though he knew not why. But then it was gone, and there was the observant, clinical healer again, a professional.

"It might be better not to bath but to wash only, so your cardiovascular system is not strained further. We do not want to risk a collapse." He had seen his patient sway on his feet, exhausted from their short walk through the stony halls and corridors.  
"I will help you and after that I will apply an ointment to help heal the scars and keep them soft."

"I would prefer to do this myself." Erestor all but hissed, indignant at the notion of being thought too fragile for a task that simple.

Keeping his bearing calm and his voice clinical, the healer raised both eyebrows. "My lord, you simply lack the strength to ..."

"I do not!"

Sceptically the blonde looked him over. "You can hold your arms up for some time to wash your hair without exhausting yourself? I doubt that very much, you still suffer from severe blood loss. Now: are you in any pain? Do you need a pain reliever?"

Erestor would have proceeded with his protest had not Celairdúr entered the chamber in that very moment, grinning at the advisor that stood defiantly in front of his healer, once more refusing help at any cost.

"Just bring the water. I will help him. And if you bring me that ointment, I'll apply that, too. Would that be agreeable to you, tôr?" Thalion, his brother and their friends had always teased Erestor that the abbreviation of his name was also what he was to them: a brother.

A lopsided grin appeared on the darkling's pale face, his expression a mirror of the doubt and hope he was feeling now that one of his most trusted friends had come after him after the debacle earlier. "As long as I am that still ... your brother I mean."

"No power in Arda could change that."

The healer silently left to get what would be needed, leaving the two elves alone. Celairdúr approached Erestor quietly, pulling him into his arms. For long moments they stayed that way, relishing the brotherly closeness they had developed during the eight long months Erestor had spend under the protection of Thalion.  
At least it seemed that Celairdúr had not abandoned him, even if everyone else had ... which lead to another question, a painful question, one that made him stiffen at once in the comfortable embrace.

"Why did no one tell me that a Maia was my father? You knew ... everyone knew! I could see it in their eyes! I have never felt that foolish, Celairdúr, so utterly foolish."

"You're angry." No judgment, no comfort, just a statement.  
Erestor drew back in irritation.

"No, I'm confused! I was the only one there with the right to know yet I was the only one that had been left in the dark!" Erestor exclaimed tartly before he added defensively after a moment "Yes I ... I guess I am angry; and rightfully so!"

"*My patient* should rest!" The healer sternly reprimanded Celairdúr from behind them. He stepped into the room and set down a tray with food, some herbs and the ointment he had promised, three servants following him with hot water and wash utensils.

"Maybe it would be best if you left ..." the healer eyed Erestor's self-proclaimed brother warily.

"Let him stay, please." Celairdúr marvelled for a moment how Erestor could voice a plea like an irrefutable order.  
"Would you be so kind as to leave us alone? I will not exhaust myself." He added as he saw that the experienced healer was about to protest.  
At last the elder blonde nodded reluctantly and bade the servants to set their burden down before all four elves left the room.

Finally alone, Celairdúr grasped Erestor's shoulders and turned him around, a wistful smile playing on his lips. Then, with his deep soothing voice Celairdúr bid Erestor to bow over the washbasin, starting to wash his hair with gentle hands.

For long moments there was silence between them, as the blond allowed the younger elf to calm and relax under his touch and Erestor pursued his own thoughts."I missed you so much. With you and Thalion I have always felt safe."

"I take it this was not the case in Imladris?"

"I entangled myself hopelessly in half-lies, Celairdúr. I always feared they would overtake me one day or another."

Warm water poured over his head, washing away the fine soap.

"Correct me if I am wrong but Elrond seemed to be the kind of elf to me that had understood your reasons if you had but told him."

"I feared he wouldn't ... I ... I killed Dírhael."

The gentle touches stopped. "How can you say that?"

Immediately the bitter words stumbled out. "I suppressed my dreams ... I could have prevented the attack had I seen it beforehand. I killed four elves and had lady Celebrían tortured and almost killed!"

Almost harshly Celairdúr turned Erestor around to face him, not surprised at seeing fresh tear streaks running over the pale cheeks. "You're *not* responsible! Bad things happen, Erestor, and you cannot change them all! Elrond is a seer, Galadriel is a seer. Maybe the Lady of the Golden Wood should have whiled away the centuries in front of her mirror, never looking away! Maybe she could have changed it, too."

Erestor's voice was thick with tears as he replied in exasperation "Celairdúr, that's absurd!"

"Just as absurd as your self-accusations."

The darkling fell silent. Would there have been a way for the other known seers to increase the frequency of their visions? Was it their duty? He had never seen it that way, before. "Maybe you're right " Erestor admitted softly but obviously not convinced as his eyes glazed over with tears again.  
"... but it matters not: I am a kinslayer because more than twenty elves were killed by the avalanche I caused and by those Orcs, following me into the trap *I* designed for them ... and the Imladrian soldiers dying to protect Elrond on the High Pass ... I am responsible for all their deaths ... "

For a moment, Celairdúr was rendered speechless as he watched Erestor bursting into tears, the small frame being shaken with violent sobs. Valar, he had never known the younger elf to be one for hysterics.

"Erestor stop!" he demanded harshly, staring at the younger elf with a stern expression.

"Even my father forsook me!"

"ERESTOR!" Celairdúr exclaimed angrily, the loud voice echoing from the rocky walls.  
Shocked into silence, Erestor wrapped his arms around his waist and hung his head.

"Are you quite finished?"

With gentle fingers Celairdúr tilted Erestor's head up to look in those unnaturally dark silver-grey orbs.

"Will you promise to listen and not to interrupt until I'm done?"

"Yes." Came the soft, small whisper as a reply.

Celairdúr grasped both of Erestor's shoulders in a firm grip, willing the young elf to keep eye contact.  
"No one blames you for their deaths, tôr, okay? What you did you did to save lives and everyone knows that.  
They care for you: Galadriel immediately travelled to Imladris to save you when she saw what would happen; Elrond turned on the High Pass with Glorfindel to come here as swiftly as possible; Elladan and Elrohír directly risked their lives for you; and Gandalf ... I have never seen anyone in such a frightening, angry mood. I heard he threatened king Thranduil and directly ordered him to help him free his son. He would have attacked the camp all by himself if he had thought he had a chance to get you out alive."

The blond felt and saw how Erestor's breathing sped up and hitched as the darkling tried to calm his raging emotions, to stop the tears that once again threatened to spill.

"They care deeply for you, tôr. And every soldier that was out there that day was out there for *you* and not because they had been ordered to ... don't throw this away, tôr. You owe your life to them; do something good with it and by the Valar, stop your vapours!"  
Celairdúr shook the slim shoulders once for good measure, letting his words sink, before he continued somewhat gentler.  
"If you feel now that you have been betrayed because no one told you about Mithrandir being your father then know that they only sought to protect you. You were so utterly weak at first and I could see how it all taxed you ... don't you deny it!" he added as he felt Erestor stiffen beneath his hands.

"Mithrandir directly ordered us not to tell you because *he* wanted to do it and he wanted to do it the right way not in the open with you injured like that and in front of thirty nosy ellyn."

Erestor stayed quiet for awhile, letting the words sink. It was true, they had all risked their lives to save him and Celairdúr's explanation sounded reasonable well enough...  
But he *had* killed those elves.

"You know what Thalion always said? There is no shame in falling, but in keeping lying on the ground. Many elves here would reach out to you, help you ... you've only got to let them."

Erestor raised one hand to Celairdúr's face to brush over his cheek. "I love you, brother. I am sorry for my hysterical fit." He tried to smile, knowing that he failed as he saw the blonde's compassionate gaze.

"Better?"

Looking down embarrassed, Erestor nodded weakly.  
The sponge appeared in his field of vision along with a teasingly smiling Celairdúr. Wiggling his eyebrow suggestively he asked "Do you think you'll manage from here on or shall I continue?"

Snatching the sponge Erestor grumbled ill-humoured and finished washing while Celairdúr busied himself with his share of the bread and beef soup on the hour later Erestor had calmed considerably, now clean and replete and tucked away between soft linen bed sheets. Celairdúr had applied the healer's ointment on the largest of his scars and the old healer himself had bound them so he would not smear his clothes or the sheets before leaving them alone once more.

Celairdúr sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at the young black haired ellon he had come to think of as a brother.  
"Before I forget: Do you think you'll be up to meet Gandalf? I'm afraid I left him waiting in front of your chambers more than two hours ago..."

Appalled, Erestor looked at the grinning ellon in front of him. "He is waiting out there for well over two hours? How could you, Celairdúr. He..."

"…deserves a little reprimand. Oh tôr! Don't look at me like that … So, will you let him enter now or shall we let him dangle for a while longer?"

"By all means, beg him in!"

The blonde bowed forward to place a soft kiss on Erestor's brow. "I'll come to check on you later then. Be good!"

Smiling at the nervously fidgeting advisor, Celairdúr left the room. Only moments later Mithrandir appeared in the open doorway, leaning on his crook; but he did not enter, merely awaiting some form of reaction from Erestor, letting him decide if he would meet the wizard.

Not quite ready to meet the Maia's eyes, Erestor pretended to concentrate on his balance while standing. If he had, he would have seen how weary and stricken Gandalf looked, almost frightened as if he feared to be rejected by his son; maybe an understandable worry considering Erestor's earlier detached reaction.

But Erestor himself was nervous at the upcoming confrontation: Mithrandir was an elvellon, an elf friend. Not only that, he was a Maia, a member of the White Council, a friend of the Great Eagles; damn it, he was a friend of Este, a *Valie*. It would not do to alienate someone like that, Elrond would surely not stand for it and Erestor's reputation was damaged enough by his humiliating performance during the last weeks.  
Therefore, though he certainly did not need someone waltzing into his life, thinking they had the right to meddle, he was unable to simply ignore him, or tell him to mind his own business. He only hoped the old wizard had realistic expectations, otherwise he was not sure how to tell him off without causing a huge scandal - something he wanted to avoid at all cost.

He straightened his nightgown deliberately and finally met the wizard's eyes.  
"Please, Mithrandir, forgive my lapse. I did not know you were waiting outside, Celairdúr must have forgotten to tell me."

Taking that as permission, Gandalf entered somewhat relieved.

"You seem much better."

Erestor almost cringed. Yes, he felt better, having been able to wash and eat and being enveloped in warm and foremost clean clothing … but the Maia – who was many times his elder and a being of so much renown - still stood in front of him in his dirty and ragged cloak, weary and probably hungry.

"I am, thank you. I am so sorry you had to wait. Please do not feel obliged to stay, we could reschedule our meeting until you have rested …"  
That would also grant him some hours more to come to terms with his father's identity.

Unaware of his son's turmoil, a sad smile ghosted over Gandalf's face as he contemplated the words; this was only a meeting for his son, a formal meeting to be scheduled. "No, no. Just sit down Erestor."

The wizard pulled an arm chair near and sat down while Erestor settled down on the bed again.  
Long, deafeningly silent moments stretched into minutes, only filled with unasked, poisoning questions.

"Forgive me." Gandalf whispered, his words being so much louder for having broken the silence that had enveloped them.

Erestor narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge the old wizard, the stranger claiming to be his father.  
"Whatever for? I do understand why you didn't tell me."

Grey eyes, glistening with unshed tears, captured Erestor's dark ones.  
"For not being there."

A taut silence spread between them again for some moments as Erestor looked away. Yes, that was the sore point, wasn't it? He could easily forgive the earlier incident, that he hadn't been told his father's identity, especially with Celairdúr's explanation; that didn't mean that he could forget that Gandalf had simply and utterly *failed* in his duties as a father up to now.  
"And why weren't you there? Why did you leave my mother?" Yes, there was bitterness in that question, rooting in all the deep emotional wounds his family had caused him and that he could have been spared from.

"I wanted to come back …"

Erestor narrowed his eyes dangerously. He should have known that Gandalf was too involved with the fate of the whole of Middle Earth to really care about a single individual, or to take responsibility for the consequences of his ... escapades.  
"You left her pregnant!"

"I did not know!" Mithrandir cried out, pleading his son to understand. He was encouraged as he saw Erestor shutting his mouth and drawing back, mirroring his behaviour from earlier, when Thranduil had let it slip that Mithrandir was his father. It seemed the advisor was honestly shocked; that must mean he believed him.  
"I did not know." He repeated calmer. "I loved your mother dearly for she was a gentle soul and compassionate and … I have never seen the light of Eru shining so bright without burning … like it did with Feanor."  
He paused, looking at the black haired ellon sitting on the bed before him, pale and frail like porcelain. "Just like you but unrestrained by grief and shadow."

"There is a reason for that!" Erestor exclaimed angrily, not really knowing why. None of the elves that looked upon him understood! All they saw was a depressed ellon that was somehow different from them and their sudden compassion poisoned him just like their earlier dislike had. He did not need that.

"I know. I will never forgive myself for I could have spared you that."  
Gandalf turned his gaze to the wrinkled hands on his lap, suddenly thinking that he would have recognized Erestor as his son much earlier would he not have shed the appearance of the black haired ellon in favour of the illusion of the old man he was now.

"I wanted to bring her to Imladris but I had some things to take care of first. In retrospect none of that was important enough to explain why I left her alone for three years more. And when I came back Brandon told me that Lalaith had drowned in the Enchanted River."  
Taking a deep, shuddering breath Gandalf looked up. "I did not know that she had given birth to you and I only came to know of your existence when I read your letter to Lindir, where you mentioned Lalaith.  
I was devastated … Lalaith was the only one I have ever loved and I did not question her brother's motives."

Erestor felt his throat contract. He had never met his mother and though he had often wished to have known her, he had never really *suffered* from the loss. For Gandalf, who had known her and obviously loved her deeply, it must have been painful. He felt his conscience making itself known as he thought about the accusations he had thrown at the wizard.  
"I am sorry." He whispered awkwardly, for a loss of better words, wishing he had more skill in comforting someone.

"I ventured to Mithlond then and would Círdan not have convinced me otherwise, I would have left for Aman to find my love again in Mandos' halls."

"I am sorry for your loss, Mithrandir." Erestor murmured gently again, helplessly staring at the folded hands in his lap. And he had thought him fickle.

"You truly are your mother's son. Only ever giving, never taking. But it was your loss also, child."  
Reaching forward Gandalf took one of the slender hands in his wrinkled ones, heartened that Erestor was not pulling back.

"Forgive me for doing nothing to uncover Brandon's lies and leaving you behind in his keep."

For a moment Erestor was inclined to tell his father that he needn't explain nor beg his forgiveness but seeing the grey eyes he knew that this was a lie; at least Gandalf needed to do this.  
"You are forgiven." He whispered, grimacing slightly as he saw the gratitude lighting Gandalf's face. Valar, now it would be so much harder to keep the old wizard at a comfortable distance. Half an hour later Gandalf left with a bittersweet feeling. Erestor seemed willing to give his father the chance to be a part of his life, or at least he wasn't pushing him away, but he grieved for the damage done to his son. A shadow had darkened the young one's soul and he hoped that it could be lifted. "Elbereth, help my son!"

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
ellyn ~ male elves  
tôr ~ brother  
elvellon ~ elf friend


	52. Awakening

**CHAPTER 52: Awakening**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Orange.  
Through closed eyes he saw the sun that shone brightly onto his face and his mouth curved into a gentle smile. Grass brushed his cheek and he could smell its earthy but fresh odour.

**OPEN YOUR EYES, CHILD**

The voice was so full of warmth, so affectionate and it seemed to suffuse his whole mind and body, more a *presence* in his mind than a voice in is ears, rather like the farspeech Galadriel and Elrond were capable of, but at the same time so much *more*; it put him at ease and he obeyed to look into blue skies, only sparsely streaked by feathery clouds, and the beautiful face of a brunet elleth. He frowned for a moment as something struck him as odd, but he could not place it.  
Tilting his head he looked closer, seeing a depth in the compassionate amber eyes that spoke of more wisdom than any elf could possess, of knowledge far beyond that of Illúvatar's children. Startled he sat up.

"You are a Vala!"

Sweet laughter answered his exclamation but he stood nervously and suddenly uncomfortable. Averting his eyes he bowed to the now solemn being in front of him, not daring to unbend again.

**RISE, ERESTOR!**

With a thundering heart the black haired ellon looked up but kept a bent position. Erestor was terrified, not knowing what the Valie in front of him wanted, nor did he know which one he was talking to. Why had they brought him here into Lord Lóriën's garden - for he guessed that this was where he was - he was a kinslayer after all.

**DEAR CHILD, PLEASE RISE.**

The Valie tilted his head up with gentle fingers and slowly Erestor straightened. Immediately he found his gaze caught by the twinkling amber eyes before him. He found it impossible to break the eye contact, but it calmed him. He felt the peace of the beautiful garden seep into him and slowly he relaxed, wondering briefly if he was being enchanted. He couldn't bring himself to care.  
For some timeless moments the past weeks' happenings seemed to drift into the distance and he felt so detached from it all, as if they had nothing to do with him. Only belatedly he remembered his own part in it, his own grave mistakes.

"Forgive me, my lady."

**FOR WHAT? FOR BEING SUCH A STUBBORN KNOW-ALL, IGNORING EVERY ATTEMPT OF HELP? OR FOR CAUSING THE GREATEST CHAOS IN THE YOUNGER HISTORY OF MIDDLE EARTH, PERHAPS?**

Blushing furiously Erestor lowered his gaze once again. What was he to answer to that anyway? 'For everything' stroke the core, he guessed.

**I UNDERSTAND, ERESTOR. YOU DO NOT NEED TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF.**

Taking heart, Erestor encountered her gaze. "My lady Este?"

**WHY DO YOU THINK I AM ESTE?**

"We are in your husband's gardens."

**BUT NIENNA IS SISTER TO IRMO.**

"But you are a friend of Olórin. I am a kinslayer, my lady. No other but a friend of my father would have reason to welcome me with such kindness." Bitterly he looked down again.

**AH, AND THERE IS THE CORE PROBLEM.  
YES, I AM ESTE; BUT NOW I SEE THAT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN BETTER HAD I BEEN NIENNA: YOUR WOUNDS ARE DEEP.**

Erestor frowned; apparently Este had not only taught Mithrandir compassion but also how to avoid specific statements and to speak in riddles – or had it been the other way round?  
The beautiful Valie tilted her head, smiling down at the smaller ellon. Slowly she drew her white arms around him, pulling him close before she began to whisper words of comfort and consolation against his black tresses.

**YES, WE DO NOT NORMALLY MEDDLE INTO THE AFFAIRS OF THE ELVES IN MIDDLE EARTH. BUT YOU ARE THE SON OF A VERY DEAR FRIEND.  
LISTEN CLOSELY, CHILD: YOU WERE NEVER MEANT TO SAVE THOSE IMLADRIAN ELVES, ERESTOR; MY GOOD BROTHER'S WIFE HAD LONG WOVEN THEIR DEMISE IN HER TAPESTRIES. IT WAS MEANT TO HAPPEN. NO ACTION OF YOURS WOULD HAVE CHANGED THAT. AND THE OTHER FIRSTBORN AND SECONDBORN THAT WERE KILLED BROUGHT THEIR FATE UPON THEMSELVES.**

Gently Este released the ellon from her embrace and took his head between her hands to look into those impossibly dark eyes.

**THE FIRSTBORN ARE SAFE HERE IN MY GOOD BROTHER'S HALLS AND WE WILL HELP THEM UNDERSTAND THEIR WRONGS AND THEY WILL HEAL – SOMETHING THAT WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN POSSIBLE IN MIDDLE EARTH. AND SOME DAY THEY MIGHT WALK ON THE SHORES OF ARDA ONCE AGAIN.  
NO FAULT LIES WITH YOU! DO NOT LET YOURSELF BE WEIGHTED DOWN ANY LONGER AND LIVE, LIKE YOU WERE MEANT TO BE.**

Hope filled eyes locked with the bottomless wells of wisdom and compassion. "I am acquitted, then?"

**DEAR CHILD! YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN CHARGED!**

With a last gentle smile the Valie released his face and stepped back, her face becoming serious. A change that was lost on Erestor, who had his eyes closed, trying to keep the swirl of joyous emotions in check that threatened to reduce him to tears in front of Este.

**YOU HAVE TO AWAKE NOW, ERESTOR.**

Questioningly, Erestor looked up, something in the Valie's voice alarmed him. "My lady?"

**THERE IS SOMEONE IN YOUR ROOM, ERESTOR. YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP AND SCREAM FOR THE GUARDS.**

With a sudden start Erestor sat up in his bed and looked around hastily, frantically, searching the small room with the stony, naked walls, sparsely furnished; but no one else was there with him, he was alone in one of the many small chambers in king Thranduil's healing wing.  
'What a mad dream!' he thought not really convinced, his heart still hammering in his chest; it had all felt so real. "Hello?" he whispered, not quite able to get rid of the feeling that he was indeed not alone. But there was no answer, no sound. "Just a dream, Erestor." Yet speaking the words did nothing to make him believe them.

Looking around one more time, Erestor forced himself to lie back down, fighting to close his eyes and calm down again, but apprehensively he continued to gaze ahead, listening for the softest noise. His elven senses were still dulled, he knew that; but were they dulled enough so that he would not notice an attacker close by? Had it been a dream, or a vision?

In a way he didn't want it to be a dream, needing the knowledge that he indeed had been forgiven, but if it had been real, then it meant that he was in serious danger.  
He drew in one trembling breath after another, as he imagined hearing a soft rustle of clothing. 'Get a grip, Erestor, you are alone!'

Feeling vulnerably exposed the way he was lying on the bed the young advisor carefully pushed the bedcover back and stood as silently as he was able to. Even though he told himself that he was being unreasonable and childish he knew he would not get any rest before he had assured himself that he was indeed alone and safe.  
With a slightly shivering hand that made him frown angrily at himself, Erestor straightened his nightgown and tiptoed to the wooden door. He knew that there were always lights burning in the hallways and by now he was so nervous that he felt almost desperate to let some light fall into the dark room.

He approached the thin line of light that shone in from the threshold and reached almost blindly for the doorknob. As his fingers felt out the polished metal, he hesitated, a wave of dread washing over him. And then he screamed in the sudden knowledge of not being alone.

Immediately a hand over his mouth silenced him and he was hauled into the air. Erestor's hands grasped the strong arm surrounding his waist, trying to dislodge it as he was thrust back in time, to when Annael had held him in a similar position, dragged him away from the safety that Glorfindel's presence had promised, into the nightmare that was the spider infested Mirkwood.  
'Not again!'

And then he was thrown onto the floor, his fall accelerated by the amazing strength of those cruel arms. With a horrible thud his back impacted with the stones and all remaining air was forcibly pushed out of his lungs. Helplessly Erestor gasped for breath, looking at the masked, oppressive figure towering over him with wide, terrified eyes.  
Then the men was on him, taking his chin in a cruel grip, the gloved fingers pressing into his cheeks, forcing his jaw open painfully.

Erestor groaned whimpered, his hands closing around the arm that kept his head in place. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he tried to dislodge the fist around his jaw. Something glistened in the darkness above him – the shimmering glass of a crystalline bottle. With a fluid movement his attacker raised the bottle to his own lips, tearing the cork out with a quiet pop.

'Oh, Elbereth, no!' Erestor begged in his thoughts, his struggle gaining the force of desperation. Violently he managed to jerk his head away and screamed out once more.

A moment later the large oaken door flew open and banged against the stone wall, the sound echoing through the hall; and suddenly Erestor was free, scrambling backwards. Wide eyed he watched as a guard stood in the doorframe, his massive form a dark shadow against the pale light of the torches, one hand clasping a long knife, ready to attack.

Crying out in rage, the soldier strode into the room, charging at the lord advisor's attacker with cold fury. Behind him, more darkness veiled figures streamed into the corridor and into the room.

The assassin looked back for a moment, caught Erestor's gaze. With a terrified gasp the dark advisor watched as the light in those eyes dimmed, flickered and finally was extinguished before the guards had a chance to reach him. They halted in their movements, swords still drawn, as the veiled man sank down to his knees, a small knife protruding from his chest.

Tears streaming down his pale face, Erestor tried to stand on wobbling feet. "Sweet Elbereth!" he whispered, ignoring the hands of various healers that tried to steady him.  
He needed to get out, out of here. Away from the dead body of the man that had surely tried to poison him.  
"Este." He whispered, feeling his way along the comfortingly cool stone wall to the door. The lady had been right. His legs felt like jelly.

Hands grasped him tightly. "Don't strain yourself, my lord. Are you injured?"

"Let go! I need to get out of here! I can't breathe..."  
He needed fresh air, away from the darkness and narrowness of these halls. But the hands wouldn't let him, they took his arms, steering him from the chamber into the hallway.

"You, my lord, need to lie down."  
It was the same healer that had tended to him the evening before, he noticed, recognizing the calm, soothing, yet assertive voice. Still trembling, he focused his eyes on the blonde healer, trying to let the other's calmness seep into his own shaken mind. His jaw hurt terribly from the iron grip of his assailant and his back fared no better, forcing his breathing into agitated gasps.

"He wanted to poison me." Erestor exclaimed somewhat confused, still looking into the clear green eyes.

The healer nodded, though he did not seem to listen carefully to his words and moments later he found himself pressed down to sit on a feathery soft mattress. "Did he make you drink something?"

"No, but ... he ... killed himself!" It seemed so incomprehensible to him, such a waste of immortal life.

The healer turned for a moment to speak with a younger assistant, before he turned again to the black haired advisor. "Are you injured, my lord?"

Erestor took a moment before he answered, honestly contemplating the question, while the assistant ushered the other healers out of the room. "He threw me down. On my back." Why had he done that? "Did not use his knife on me, but ..." He didn't understand. Why not use the knife, why trying to poison him when he noticed the attacker? Even if the poison proved to be undetectable, his body would have shown the clear signs of the attack. Everyone who cared to look would have known instantly.

"Are you injured, my lord?" The healer repeated patiently, interrupting his patient's scurrying thoughts.

"No injuries! Leave me alone!" Erestor murmured, suddenly feeling tired as the shock wore off. He would sport some nasty bruises soon on his stiff back, but otherwise he was fine. He certainly felt so as his breathing returned to normal again.

"Would you let me remove that nightgown to see for myself?" The healer asked with a slight frown, though his voice was smooth, professional.

"I'd rather not. And I assure you that I am uninjured."  
He would not undress at any rate to let the healer press his fingers onto freshly forming bruises.

The healer merely pursed his lips indignantly. Would they have this discussion every time now while he had to tend to the chief advisor?  
"Lord Elrond will surely examine you himself, if you'd rather have a familiar person do it."

Erestor's head whipped around to see the smug half-smile on the healer's handsome face and clenched his teeth in frustration. But the threat of Elrond tending to him once again had him comply wordlessly. It had pushed him to the limits of his endurance to have the Half-Elf's hands on his body in front of everyone else and keep him from embarrassing himself. All the worse because he knew that it was only a healer's interest for his lord, nothing more.

Hesitantly he pushed himself up from the mattress and started to pull the nightgown over his head, wincing as he strained his already stiffening muscles. Immediately the healer was at his side to assist him and had him lay face down on the bed.

For some moments Erestor followed the noises of the healer rummaging through the cupboards, his mind again wandering to the corpse in the room adjacent to his. Why had this ellon been as desperate as to kill himself rather than be caught and trialled for it? He did not know what Thranduil would hand out as punishment, but surely it would not be worse than death?

But then Erestor hesitated. He himself had thought death better than a future at Fiondil's side, still thought it. Was it better to flee to lord Námo's halls rather than being outcast, wandering the rough, withering landscape of Middle Earth alone, between mortals, dying a little bit with every passing day in a dying world? There was no need to answer that question.

He was startled from his dark musings as cool ointment drizzled onto his back and was gently massaged into his skin. "It will ease the bruising." Came the softly spoken comment.

Erestor felt himself drifting away as his muscles relaxed beneath the skilful hands and sighed. Maybe he should just ask Elrond and Thranduil to send them west, where the Valar would either reject them or take them in. Had that not been Este's advice as well? To let the Valar deal with the culprits and make them see, make them understand their wrongs?  
It would be good not to have to deal with them any longer. Just returning to Imladris, to his familiar life, to Lindir. Yes, to Lindir, his most loyal friend. The minstrel had saved his life by handing the letters to Glorfindel. A small smile lit his face as he thought about that twist of fate.

In the back of his mind Erestor registered the door opening with a low creak, followed by soft footsteps.  
"How is he? Was he injured?" he heard Elrond's low voice whisper.

He tensed, suddenly very aware of his half naked state. "I am awake, my lord." He murmured hurriedly. "It's nothing but some bruises."

A third hand, cool and so very gentle, was laid just below his shoulder blades and he felt a warm, tingling sensation spread from the slim fingers into his abused flesh. The other healer retreated a few steps.  
"You need not exhaust your healing powers, my lord. I am fine, really."

The fingers remained on his skin and he felt glad that his face was turned away from the two healers, hiding his dark blush.  
"This is hardly exhausting for me, Erestor."

The advisor laid still and silent at that. He heard the Silvan healer leave the room and for some minutes his whole existence focused on the soothing touch of his lord's hand until Elrond's voice once again shook him from his stupor. "What happened?"

Erestor released a trembling breath. He did not want to speak about all of this now; especially not while the feathery touch of his lord's hand ghosted over his naked back, unsettling him in a way he had never known before. Dangerous and ... exciting.  
"I was attacked. I thought it was rather obvious." He snapped.

Elrond raised a delicate eyebrow at his advisor. "I know. But do you know how he entered, who he was? He might have accomplices."

"I am sorry, my lord." Since his captivity he found his self-control alarmingly lacking, all his feelings written in his face for all to see, and showing in his actions. How he yearned for some re-establishment of normality, of sanity to his life.  
"When I woke, there was someone in my room. He attacked me and tried to poison me, but the guards and healers arrived before he could. Neither do I know how he got in, nor why he did it, nor who he is."

Erestor felt the fingers retreat, leaving a hollow feeling behind and he tried to swallow the lump of emotions that were trying to choke him. He sat up, surprised at the absence of any pain and looked for a short moment at the compassionate face of his lord. Then he lowered his gaze again, unable to meet the grey, wise eyes for long. They always seemed to stare right into his soul, unveiling whatever hid there.  
"Can we not return to Imladris, my lord?"

He felt the mattress dip down as Elrond sat close to him with a sigh. "I am sorry that you were attacked, Erestor. But I assure you that guards have been stationed in front of your chambers. It will not happen again, you are safe."

Frustrated, Erestor wrung his hands. That was not what he meant. "I don't wish to stay for the trial, my lord."

A reassuring hand squeezed his shoulder slightly. "It must be done, Erestor, such deeds cannot go unpunished."  
Both remembered the time Elrond had said that very sentence before, the day he had first met Erestor; when he had first heard of the abuse the young ellon had suffered at the hands of his previously unknown family. Erestor bit his lips, still feeling the sting of the half-lies he had told then.

"I don't want them to be cast out; I don't want them to die. If you demand it of me, I will tell you exactly what happened, ..." or at least a rough outline of the major events, "... but I do not want to be the cause for their demise."

Finally understanding, Elrond drew a deep breath. For a moment he had thought that Erestor was simply too scared to face his uncle once more, afraid what he could do to him even though he was now in custody. That Erestor merely did not want blood on his hands pleased him, as it meant that the elf would not bear mental scares away that were too severe to heal. An empathic being still after all that he had experienced.  
"Erestor, Brandon did not only attack you, but also me and my sons. Elladan and Elrohír could have died ... I would indulge your wish, if I could. But attacking the ruling family of Imladris made it high treason! Elves died because of him. He needs to be punished if only to make a public example."

Curtly Erestor nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Your father, Glorfindel and king Thranduil are waiting outside. I told them I would see how you fared, first." Closely Elrond looked into his advisor's eyes, searching for signs of discomfort or weariness, finding both haunting the silver eyes. It would take a long time until Erestor would feel comfortable in the presence of others now that everyone knew of his past.  
"I will tell them you fell asleep, then."

Surprised, Erestor looked up as his lord stood and turned to leave with a small smile.  
"Sleep, Erestor." The velvety voice murmured, before Elrond left with the creaking sound of the oaken door.

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

elleth ~ female elf  
ellon ~ male elf


	53. Three Weaknesses

**CHAPTER 53: Three Weaknesses**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Four days after the Imladrian elves had reached the king's halls prince Legolas returned with Thalion and his loyal guards, bringing with them Brandon and almost twenty elves that were adjudged key roles in the crimes against Imladris, mainly the surviving warriors that had been directly involved in the abduction of lord Erestor of Imladris.

Their arrival was a quiet affair and the culprits were brought into the prisons far below king Thranduil's halls, where they would remain until their hearing the following day.

* * *

Erestor felt his heart echoing in his throat. The last days had been wonderful; he had been with his brothers mostly, acting as his personal guard for the time being, and sometimes with Gandalf and he had basked in all those little affectionate gestures that he had longed for all those years. His brother's had also made sure to avoid the other Imladrian elves, indulging Erestor in his unspoken wish for rest and privacy. The darkling was not yet ready to face those whose life he had played with on the High Pass, not yet ready to explain his actions, and his brother's had complied – much to the Noldor's chagrin.

But now the dream was over, now he had to face Brandon and with him the horrors of his past. Time and time again he told himself that Brandon could never hurt anyone ever again but this did not make facing him easier.

Erestor startled as a kiss descended onto his head and he heard Thalion's voice behind him. "I'm finished with your hair. Are you ready?"

Ready to tell a pack of self declared nobles and advisors, his own lord and his crush (or crushes) about the tortures Brandon and he himself had put him through? Ready to face his uncle and stand his ground against him in front of Thranduil's court? Absolutely not.

"Yes." He murmured.

"Okay, tôr, now listen: Be honest for a change, Thranduil will notice if you lie and you don't want to anger him."

"I am honest!"

"There you go again; dear, you are an almost pathological liar!"  
Turning the other ellon around Thalion stared into the grey eyes, making sure Erestor noticed his sincerity.

"You are pretty intelligent but so is Brandon. He will surely try to blame others for his crimes. If you want to prevent that from happening you need to convince Thranduil and the other lords. You were the only witness, tôr! He will attack you and try to shuffle out of his plight by painting you black and I don't want you to provide him with a target; understood?"

Shocked Erestor looked to the blond above him "But he surely cannot think it possible to achieve an acquittal!"

Thalion shook his head. "I cannot fathom him but in his place I would try to avoid banishment and at least gain free passage to Valinor. Besides, you still want to keep your reputation intact."

"I understand." Erestor assured his friend.

"Do you?" Thalion raised an eyebrow. "You have three main weaknesses, tôr: you have a liability to lying, you lack self-confidence and for all your intelligence you do not know how to *not* alienate anyone you talk with."

"That's not true! You are my friend, my brother, and Celairdúr and Lindir … and there is Gandalf … and Elrond, the twins and Glorfindel …" but then he hesitated. Lindir and his Mirkwood brothers had befriended him because *they* were compassionate beings who had seen through his mask, Gandalf was his father and the peredhil and Glorfindel were… not his friends although they had wanted to be. He had had no part in any of these relationships and friendships, he had taken what they had offered out of pity and not returned anything aside from lies.  
"… you are, aren't you?" he stuttered, suddenly wondering fearfully if Thalion maybe had not forgiven him his lies; maybe the blond was so harsh now because he was angry with him.

But then a gentle expression stole into the blue eyes. "See, tôr? We all stand behind you now but still you always doubt that. They will try to shatter your trustworthiness and you need to trust us to believe in you, okay? Just expect an attack and keep your weaknesses in mind: be honest, believe in yourself and us and try to be polite. Now come."

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
peredhil ~ half elves  
tôr ~ brother


	54. The Trial

**CHAPTER 54: The Trial**

* * *

**CHAPTER NOTES**  
And here the final part...

**SCRIPTS:**  
'Thoughts'; _~visions~_; _****mind speech****_; -l-_Letters_-l-

* * *

Almost an hour later Brandon was called to stand in front of king Thranduil and lord Elrond, who sat next to the king as guest of honour.  
The throne room was filled with soldiers who were guarding the accused, with the lords of Imladris and Greenwood, king Thranduil's advisors and Thalion's unit, who would act as witnesses. With a sinking feeling Erestor realized that indeed all of the assembled people either had been directly involved in this nightmare or were required to guard the accused. In this rather vast circle it was Brandon who would speak first as only he could describe how he came to be Erestor's foster-father.

When Erestor noticed Thranduil's intention he almost groaned. It seemed they were intent on picking his whole life to pieces. And when his uncle stood in front of his king, Erestor leaned back disgustedly in his chair, suddenly understanding that this was nothing more than a show trial, probably suggested by Thranduil's oh so clever advisors. Every question, every answer carefully measured. This trial was only held to redeem the king of *Mirkwood's* reputation, and secretly show him, Erestor, up without raising the suspicion of doing so.  
He wondered if Thranduil was seeing the concealed smugness in his advisors' faces and then, if he himself really saw it or only imagining it.

* * *

"He is my sister's son. Lalaith." Brandon smiled slightly in remembrance of the little blond elleth. "I admit that her pregnancy came as kind of a shock to my family and that I was furious: she was not wed and did not reveal her lover's name. Knowing his identity now I guess she thought we would not have believed her and maybe she was right."  
Straightening in his chair, Brandon looked directly at Erestor, a deep-rooting sorrow seemingly surfacing in his blue eyes. "The pregnancy and Elethael's birth weakened her considerably and I decided that I had to take her to our king's halls so she could receive an adequate medical treatment."

Directing his gaze to his liege he proceeded after taking a deep breath. "On our way down the river we were attacked by giant spiders and although we managed to escape we lost our boats with everything in it and found ourselves wandering more or less without orientation on the western side of the Forest River where we more or less stumbled upon the Enchanted River and with the spiders in our back we followed it upstream towards the Elf-path. I took the baby because Lalaith was growing weaker and then … then she just couldn't go on any longer. And I told her to wait and hide and that I would go west to the outpost there where Magron was stationed – I guessed that it must have been within a day's travel – and I left her my sword to defend herself.  
But when we returned we only found little Elethael, weak and almost lifeless. I had Magron search for Lalaith and returned to the outpost with her son. Two days later they brought back her lifeless body and told me that she had drowned, probably while trying to get water for herself and her baby."

Elrond narrowed his eyes, somehow doubting Thranduil's advisor. But he was too far away to look into those treacherous eyes and see the lies there. Well … there had been no other witnesses and they would never be able to prove if he had had part in her death and there were crimes enough for which one could blame him.

"I brought Elethael home and raised him. Although I admit that I was not a good father to the boy: I was more often in your halls, my liege, than seeing to Elethael's needs."

"My name is Erestor!" The words were grinded out as if the darkling found it hard not to shout them.

"Your mother named you Elethael, and that's what I will call you. Your name is the only thing she left you, child. Do not treat that with contempt!"

"Silence! Lord Erestor, you will talk when asked to."

"But I …" seeing Thalion's raised eyebrows, Erestor grew silent and looked down at his lap, still fuming. "… my apologies, my liege. It shall not happen again."

"Good, then please continue, lord Brandon. But you shall refer to the chief advisor of Imladris with his chosen name, *lord* Erestor."

Brandon's smile froze on his face but he bowed to his king. "As I said: most of the time Magron and Fiondil looked after lord Erestor. And Fiondil was the one to discover his gift. The first vision he had … he was five years old and he foresaw an accident that three weeks later happened."

Erestor felt all eyes resting on him and unconsciously he ducked down, uncomfortable with those details of his childhood. He still remembered sobbing in Fiondil's arms after that first time, listening to the promise that he was safe but those visions had never left him.

"I told my sons to keep an eye on their cousin and tell me about his visions." He paused to wet his lips.  
"I am no saint and I do not want to belittle what I have done. But when I realized the benefit his visions provided our family with, could maybe, if nurtured correctly, provide Greenwood with, I told Fiondil to encourage them. And he did. I never asked how he would do it, however, and I was not there to witness it.  
I used his ability to gain a position at your court, my liege, and I used my position to help our people, advising you. But I did not want to hurt anyone."

"This is … this is outrageous!" Erestor shouted, standing up from his place, pointing with his finger at his uncle, his hand shivering with fury and hate.

"Erestor, sit down!" Elrond ordered, but his chief advisor did not obey.

"You dare to say you did not want for anyone to get hurt? You ordered them to drug me!"

"Lord Erestor, we shall hear you, but do not interrupt lord Brandon's testimony!" Thranduil said with a raised eyebrow.

"They filled me up with alcohol, hallucinogens and psychedelic drugs and when I refused to tell them about my dreams any longer you forced me into marrying your blasted son!"

"ERESTOR!" Elrond stood, his voice leaving no room for disobedience.

"I was 41, Brandon! 41!"

Elrond closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself before turning to Thranduil, anger marring his beautiful face.  
"I won't listen to your advisor telling any more lies." He told him in a hushed voice.

Thranduil pursed his lips, leaning back slightly. "I wanted to give Brandon the chance to confess, lord Elrond …"

"I understand that. But you also have to understand that my chief advisor cannot just listen to his uncle spinning a web of deceit and belittling the cruelties he has put him through. And I won't let that happen either. With his lies Brandon lost the right to speak and I will leave immediately with Erestor if this outrageousness continues!"

Thranduil looked into Elrond's grey serious eyes. "Forgive me, lord Elrond. You are right of course. After all it is Greenwood that has to vindicate itself in front of Imladris."

Slowly Elrond's hard expression softened somewhat, but his voice was still clipped when he answered the king.  
"No. It is Brandon who has to vindicate himself in front of his king and the victims of his scheming. This is not about the relationship between our realms."

Thranduil graced his noble guest with a small smile before he turned towards his advisor, his voice now easily filling the whole room. "As you seem unable to tell the truth, lord Erestor shall continue from here on."

Erestor bowed his head, looking down at his fists. 'truthful, self-confident, polite.'  
He looked at his uncle and his throat contracted in fury and hate. 'truthful, self-confident, polite!'  
Still his voice shook from suppressed anger when he began to speak.

"With all due respect, my lord: I do not see how the retelling of my childhood could contribute any useful information." Ignoring the suppressed groans of his brothers and his lord's critically raised eyebrow, he hurried to continue.  
"Almost twenty Imladrian soldiers along with my lords Elrond, Glorfindel, the lords Elladan and Elrohír and prince Legolas, one of your most trusted captains, namely captain Thalion, and two dozens of your soldiers and furthermore the lord of the great eagles Gwaihir, his brother Landroval and two others of their kin can testify that Brandon contacted the Hillmen of Angmar to attack the royal family of Imladris along with the Hidden Valley itself and that he abducted me. I see *no* reason why I should publically lay my childhood bare!"

"I object, my liege, in respect to my participation or knowledge of these events." Brandon calmly spoke up.  
"This was only Fiondil's planning and doing. Even the soldiers standing before you here were not aware of my youngest son's exact plans. Had I or they known that a fellow elf would be harmed in the endeavour they would not have done it. Yes, we wanted lord Erestor back, we wanted that influence again, and it was easily justified to abduct Elethael, seeing that he was so unhappy in Imladris that he had started fading! Fiondil said that it would be better for lord Erestor if he was with his husband again and he said that as long as lord Elrond was not in Imladris, protecting its inhabitants with Vilya, the abduction would be easy to accomplish and without anyone coming to harm."

Erestor was speechless as he looked in disbelief first at Brandon and then at Thranduil, seeing that the king wavered. His mind screamed at him to stop that nightmare and he could not keep his tears from spilling over, not because of grief, but because of the storm of emotions raging in him.

"I will never forgive myself, for I did not see what was so clearly before my eyes. Fiondil loved Elethael passionately, madly, he was obsessed with his cousin. All he wanted was to have him in his arms for all eternity … I think that he did all this so that his brother, my eldest son Magron would die so that he could bond to Elethael instead … I was so blind. I will take the blame for that on my shoulder; please spare my family for they are innocent in this. But we truly did not know the extent of this madness." The blonde begged convincingly.

Swallowing convulsively, Erestor observed the other accused who had helped in the kidnapping, and he knew they would support Brandon in this testimony. Brandon protected them!  
His gaze wandered to the other witnesses he had enumerated earlier, knowing that none of them were able to confound those claims and only Elrond and Thalion met his pleading gaze. He saw how his lord held his blond lover back, Glorfindel obviously being close to attacking the traitorous advisor. But they couldn't stop the lies and if he didn't stand his ground now, then Brandon would maybe only face some kind of eternal house arrest. He wanted him gone from Middle Earth, wanted to be able to forget him!

Swallowing the lump of emotions, Erestor started to speak up hastily, interrupting his uncle. "I will testify!"  
Immediately Erestor stiffened as he felt all attention focusing on him and his heartbeat and breathing sped up and for some moments Erestor thought he would not be able to speak. Erestor looked down to the hands in his lap that had tensed up, clasping around the delicate fabric of his robes, the knuckles white from the tension. He did so not want to do this.  
Faintly he knew that he would be unable to calm down any time near and almost unconsciously he straightened and started breathing shallowly with his stomach only, his chest widened and rigid with the retained breath. He would have to speak slowly to cover up the frequent respites he needed but he knew that this would at least hide his fast breathing.

If only they would not look at him, or at least not look at him like vultures eying a dying animal.  
"Yes, lord Brandon took me in but I know from Mithrandir that he kept me a secret from the beginning, he told my father that I didn't exist so he could keep me, a half Maia."

"That is not true, Erestor. He came asking about my sister, never revealing they had been lovers. Why should I have even let him look at you, when you were still so small and fragile? And even if I had known who he was, he didn't deserve you: he impregnated my sister and left! He left her alone and if not for him, she would still live!"

"I came back for her!"

"When she had already died, too weakened by her pregnancy!"

"Still you had no right to keep my son away from me!"  
"Brandon! Mithrandir!" Thranduil called angrily. Why was this happening to him? "Anyone who finds himself unable to keep silent while another testifies will leave this hall! *Now*, proceed if you will, lord Erestor!"

Erestor warily watched his father for a moment, wondering if the old wizard only cared for his mother's sake or for his sake. He never realised that his words came more easily now, that his breathing came less agitated after witnessing his father lose his temper for his sake. Maybe it was only the short respite from all that intent stares.

"As my uncle already said: My cousins raised me but they kept me inside for most of the time. When I started to have visions they daily asked me about any dreams that I might have had but I dreamt only once or twice a week and only about happenings of the near future. Therefore they started to experiment with hallucinogens and later with alcohol and psychedelic drugs for practical reasons until they modulated the doses so that I had almost daily visions with a rather high clarity."  
He did not want to look at the elves staring at him, so he kept his gaze trained at his now folded hands. They pitied him, all respect for Elrond's chief advisor fled. What he had worked for lied shattered on the ground.

He could not tell them the details, make them pity him even more, and they had no right to know either. 'Truthful, self-confident and polite' he repeated the words in his head like a mantra. It seemed he would only manage to stay truthful.

"I started fading as I could not stand seeing the horrid pictures but they kept me alive by telling me I was needed and that it served some greater good." He smiled mirthlessly at his own naïveté before he continued.

"But some day I accidentally got an overdose and I dreamt with an unprecedented clarity. I saw Imladris fall, lord Elrond die; I … saw my own death.  
I refused to ever tell them about my visions again, hoping this would make them stop. Instead I was forced to marry my cousin Magron, Brandon's eldest son. I was 41 then. Bonded to him and under the influence of drugs I would not have been able to close my mind and he could have seen my visions.  
I managed to escape before the bond was forged. And I happened upon Thalion who brought me to Imladris."  
There, it was done, his story told. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived.

"Lord Erestor, who exactly forced you into that marriage?" Thranduil asked.

"My uncle ... Brandon did."

"And how?" the king inquired further.

He should have expected that question, Erestor thought, trying to hide the memories that it raised. He should have known that they would not be satisfied, that they would dig up his most painful secrets. And he had worked so hard to bury them in the first place.

Meanwhile Brandon nervously fidgeted on his chair, knowing what was to come, knowing that this would greatly influence his liege's view of him. His movements did not remain undetected and more than one ellon and especially Gandalf casted murderous glimpses in his direction.  
But Erestor stayed silent, either caught in memories or unwilling to reveal what had happened so long ago.

Finally Elrond tried to inquire further but all he got was a quiet and short "He threatened to torture a friend."

"And where is this elf so that we may question him?"

"She, my liege. But neither is Glánil still alive, nor was she an elleth. She was a wolf. Brandon threatened to amputate her legs one by one and make me watch." A shocked wave of murmurs and gasps went through the room as every gaze was directed at Brandon in outrage.

"I never harmed that animal!"

"Because I relented before you could!"  
Forcing himself to calm, Erestor turned again to where his lord and the king of Greenwood sat. "I managed to flee before the bond with Magron was completed with the help of a knife Fiondil brought me. My Glánil helped me survive in the woods until I happened upon Thalion and his unit.  
They brought me to Imladris."

With a stern expression Thranduil addressed his captain. "Why wasn't I informed, Thalion?"

"When we came upon Erestor he was frantic. He only told us enough to lead to the assumption that he had been abused by his family. He refused to tell more and pleaded with us to help him escape.  
Forgive me for acting on my own authority but I deemed it best for a boy who was frightened enough by his pursuers to cross spider territory without so much as a water flask."

Erestor shook his head in slight disgust. The Mirkwood elves *were* using this trial as a means to redeem king Thranduil's reputation. But he schooled his features the moment that the king turned to him again, obviously satisfied with his captain's explanation that left him without guilt. No, Thranduil surely had had no means to know that Brandon was a snake in the grass; the king of Mirkwood had everything under control. Thalion had been an exception, and had only gone against his liege's ruling because of compassion and pity. Pity.

"Lord Erestor?"

Was that all there was?  
He looked to his brothers and smiled slightly. Suddenly he didn't care. Let them know, let those foxes think whatever they wanted, he knew his brothers, knew they loved him.

Slowly he started to tell of his visions and his plans to convict his uncle. He spoke of how he had erred in the time and how he had then adapted his scheming. In every detail he retold the happenings on the High Pass, supported by the reports of the ruling family of Imladris and Tauron.

Erestor kept his silence however when it came to the events that had occurred the day he was freed, not wanting to reveal them in front of king Thranduil's court. It was mostly Legolas who recounted the details of this night and no word was breathed of the sexual assault that the advisor had suffered, and for that, Erestor was thankful.

He was only vaguely listening as some guards and healers recounted the attack on Erestor and he only forced himself to pay attention when he heard that the apparent poison had merely been water from the Enchanted River, that the assassin had only tried to keep him from testifying. At this point, Brandon had given up his attempts of denying his participation.

In the end it was decided that the sentence would be announced the following day after Thranduil had consulted privately with Elrond on the exact verdict.  
Erestor knew they would ask his opinion also. He felt numb inside.

Emotionally and physically drained he was glad when he felt Thalion take his arm to lead him from the room. Part of him wished he had died at Fiondil's hands so that this part of his life would never have come into the open, the other part of him already felt dead; or at least not yet ready to live. But it would, he reminded himself, in time.

"Come, Erestor. It is over."

"Yes it is. Thank you." He added after a moment.

"Why?"  
Thalion gently smiled at his brother as he steered him past the large wooden doors leading from Thranduil's throne room, unobtrusively indicating Gandalf to stay away; Erestor always seemed to be somewhat tense around the wizard and the Imladrian elves. With him being exhausted from the trial, Thalion was willing to keep Erestor away from them for a while, at least until he was properly rested.

"Just ... just because I feel that way. Could you tell Elrond that I don't want to ... I don't want them to ask me for my opinion regarding the verdict. And I don't want to hear it. I would like to be excused tomorrow."

"Why don't you ask him, yourself?" Thalion knew that the peredhel and Glorfindel were concerned for the advisor. They had asked him daily how the darkling was doing, if he felt ready to speak with them; but the captain had always denied the balrog slayer and the lord of Imladris, and most often Gandalf, too, with feeble excuses.  
"You realise that you are hiding?"

"I'm not hiding, I am merely tired."  
He could not go over to where Glorfindel held Elrond's hand in his, speaking with the twins and Gandalf, who had joined them a moment ago. Elrohír and Elladan knew his secret, he could not face them now, not ever.

He saw their heads turning towards him and looked away quickly into his brother's searching gaze again. Only a moment longer and they would have beckoned him over, of that he was sure.  
"I shall retire now, if you will excuse me."

Shaking the captain off with a quick movement, Erestor turned and headed down the hallway to his chambers. Thalion followed his brother with his thoughtful gaze before he approached the peredhil family with measured steps.

"Captain Thalion." Glorfindel politely smiled at the Silvan captain for a short moment in welcome before he turned serious again. "How is he?" he asked, nodding in the direction Erestor had vanished.

"Tired." Thalion answered honestly. "He begged me to make his excuses for tomorrow and he would prefer not to know the sentence either." Pausing for a moment, Thalion cocked his head in thought. He knew that they had wanted to befriend Erestor at some point and he knew that his brother had refused them.  
But he could not always be there for Erestor and they seemed honourable in their intentions. Even though he was indulging the darkling for now in his wish for privacy that would not always be possible, and if these elves still wanted to get close to Erestor, they had his goodwill.  
Besides, Erestor really should work on the relationship with his father.

"He is exhausted and wants to rest. But truth be told: I think he only wants to avoid you. Why, I do not know. But he seems extremely uncomfortable in your presence."

Neither the Silvan nor the two Imladrian lords saw the knowing look and smirk shared by the twins.

"He is probably embarrassed at the situation he was found in, and he never liked being the centre of attention. It will become better, once we are back in Imladris." Gandalf voiced.

_**** Oh, if they knew! ****_Elladan grinned at his brother, who regarded him with an amused look of his own.

"I wouldn't be so certain" Thalion cautioned. "But I advise you to be persistent and honest with him."

_**** Just wait 'til we tell our matchmaker of a sister. Poor Erestor! ****_

_**** I'm sure she'll be persistent, I'm not so sure if she's going to be honest, though…****_

_**** Erestor won't know what hit him! ****_

* * *

**CHAPTER END NOTES**

ellon ~ male elf  
elleth ~ female elf

**I know it's quite an open ending, but the next story, Gates of Dawn, will take the story line up right where Scarred Fate ended.**


End file.
